When I awoke on Thursday of Hol Hamoed Succot to the news that an agreement between Israel and Hamas had been reached, effectively returning the remaining 48 hostages and ending the war, I couldn’t believe it. That’s not to say that I did not believe it was possible – I was just a bit shell-shocked in a sense.
The whole country has been in pain since Oct. 7, 2023, and has been calling for the return of the hostages ever since their abduction. We’ve all wanted this moment to come, and now that it has arrived, how can we grasp it is part of our reality?
The news came in the early morning hours, and the excitement flowed through Israel.
After waking up to the sound of rain, I could not have expected that the day would start on such a strong note. Immediately, the plan was to go to Tel Aviv’s Hostage Square.
Thursday morning brought an electric feeling through my city. The morning was marked by covering responses to the agreement by world leaders, such as Argentina’s President Javier Milei, and Egyptian President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, both of whom lauded the news as a result of US President Donald Trump. Once arriving at Hostage Square, it became clear they were not the only ones who felt that way.
The first thing I noticed upon arriving that afternoon was the many United States flags people were waving, dancing to energetic music. The feeling of ruach, or spirit, was clear and present in a way it has not been in a long time. The heavy feeling in the air was now thinning out, much like the transition from summer humidity to autumn.
Then I read the statement from US Vice President J.D. Vance. “The hostages are set to be released at any moment,” the notification reads. What I feel as I see this is something unmatched, but still, I cannot fully internalize it.
Until all 48 hostages are freed and back on Israeli soil, I cannot breathe.
'I hope we will see better days.'
Noa Mozes, 17, from Gedera, noticed me interviewing one of her peers – a teenage activist who fights against online bullying, advocating before Knesset – and approached me, asking what I was doing. I explained that I am a correspondent at The Jerusalem Post, and was exploring the crowd to see what feelings I could get from Israelis at the square that day.
Mozes, who is finishing up school and will head to the army when she is of age, was standing with her cousin, 18-year-old Tal Goldratt, who resides in Kfar Saba and will also head to the IDF when the time comes. The teens and I spoke about the sense of cautious optimism.
We discussed our understanding of how these things can go, especially in negotiations with a group such as Hamas; we’d believe it when we see it, the Israeli hostages and four foreign national hostages, all 48 remaining, back on Israeli soil.
We discussed that the deal was announced as confirmed, but not yet complete. “Of course, the hostages will come back eventually,” Mozes said, confident that it would happen, though weary. “The war is about to stop, thank God. I hope we will see better days.”
We discussed the events that have been happening in Gaza; continued destruction because of a terrorist organization whose entire model is dependent on hiding behind those they are governing.
“I do not think that children need to suffer. But there is no other choice. They use kids and people, [Hamas] hides behind children because they are cowards, and we don’t have another choice,” Mozes said. “It is sad what we needed to do, but it’s what it was. We’re almost there. It’s almost the end and I’m so happy [that it’s ending].”
Mozes recalled the intense division that has plagued the Israeli public for more than just the months leading up to the Oct. 7 massacre. “At the start, we were very united, and then there was a lot of political division – Left, Right, people saying things like, ‘You hate Bibi, you bastard.’ But now we’re starting to feel united again,” she told the Post. “It’s very nice.”
As a teen through this war, she’s been particularly exposed to conspiracies online and constant blame on Israel, even when it doesn’t fit. The misinformation war has continued, with their generation in a front-row seat. “I want to tell the world to really investigate what is really happening, and not only viewing the content that the Palestinians are showing us, because almost all of the time it’s not true.”
These teens have been living through it. Her cousin, Goldratt, has been coming weekly to a musical jam night at Hostage Square called “Evyatar’s Jams,” in honor of Evyatar David. “We’re united by music. The fact that we are happy, dancing, and singing songs for [him] – that’s what makes it so strong,” Goldratt said. “I really hope that for the next jam, Evyatar is going to join us.”
A childhood marked by conflict
My conversation with these two girls made me realize that though I know not everything was as easy in my youth as it may have been for others, at least I was not living through a brutal war, touching the lives of everyone around me in quite a literal sense, in my backyard. Though being a child in New York on 9/11 had its clear impact, my life was not touched in the war that followed the largest terror attack on US soil in the same way the lives of these teens were touched after Oct. 7.
My childhood was not riddled with geopolitical conflict, even if sometimes it felt that things were not right in my community.
The square itself was packed, not just with media and those reacting to the deal, but also with Trump celebration costumes and posters. As an American citizen who has previously lived under Donald J. Trump’s presidency, I have literally never seen more “Make America Great Again” hats in one place – at least, internationally speaking.
There were posters with his face, signs nearly worshiping him. That piece has been sticking out like a sore thumb for me. I completely understand the appreciation for the work he has done in bringing the hostages back home; the type of idolatry – comparing him to Cyrus the Great, who liberated the Jewish people from Babylonian captivity – does not resonate with me.
Dr. Gili Cohen-Taguri dressed in a full-body costume as Trump – much more commitment than someone holding a sign, especially as the sun beat down on the crowd. “Trump sealed a deal for us. It wouldn’t have happened without Trump,” she told me in our interview, after posing for a photo with Marc Israel Sellem, one of our Post photographer extraordinaires.
When pressed on her commitment to the bit, she expressed continued gratitude. “We want to thank Trump, because he gives hope back to the Israeli people.”
She said she believed this would not have happened without the US president, this was a fun way to thank him amid celebrations. “I think he deserves a Nobel Prize because what is happening is not just the hostages that will come back,” she said. “I believe that peace will come to this area – to the Middle East.”
Behind the costume, though, was an Israeli citizen who wants to see her country rebuild. “After two years, the hostages will [inally come back. The hostage families; I saw the relief on their faces this morning.”
Impassioned, she stated, “This is a huge, historical moment for the Israeli people.”
Now, her country can begin to truly heal. “It’s like we can now restart again, to build what we need to build. This is just the beginning point,” she said. Her costume was merely a token of appreciation to the man who brought a deal to fruition, acting as a form of therapy.
We haven't won just yet
Sunday night at Hostage Square, just hours ahead of the pending release, felt almost like a house party.
Perhaps that is not the correct way to describe the scene, but it echoed a similar energy that I would experience at my university’s game day – it felt like walking through a massive tailgate for the greatest game, team, and players in the world – knowing the game was already “in the bag” with a secured victory.
But still, we have not won yet.
All present know we have won because the hostages will be back home within a matter of hours, but until they are back in Israeli territory, the celebrations feel premature. I can relate to these jubilant feelings, but I know that Hamas has burned us before.
Though this part of Tel Aviv has felt extremely somber for two years, now it feels like a massive party. A surprise party that had started long before the guests arrived, and I approach this enthusiasm with extreme caution.
We can only imagine what we will find upon their release. After seeing the video of Evyatar David as skin and bones, digging his own grave, I have a feeling that seeing them in any condition will feel like a major gut punch. In the morning, now that the release time has been pushed back to 8 a.m., I will go and meet some of his best friends to await his arrival back to safety.
That setting may not be Hostage Square, but I can only imagine that it will be one of the most intimate experiences one could have on an occasion like this. I have been in the room with friends and families of those killed on Oct. 7 as they received devastating news of death and despair. But now, I’ll experience the other side of it – people seeing the freedom of their best friend in real time.
I am extremely curious what will become of Hostage Square when they are all freed. Will the signs come down? Will the rallies continue to give survivors and bereaved families a platform to share their struggles and messages of hope?
I remember when families gathered in tents near Sarona Market, on the other side of the Kirya Army Base. The fight continued, and the space needed to accommodate more people, effectively transitioning to more of a community landmark.
A big part of me hopes the square remains as a dedication to the plight of the hostages and their advocates – a reminder that we fall when divided, and that Israelis leave no one behind. But another part of me might be content with putting it to rest.
In 30 years, will I come to the library at Beit Ariela and remember this place as a living memorial? Will it ever just be the home of a museum, as it was before? Or will it forever be the home of our fight against tyranny and advocacy for freedom?
I am trying to picture what the morning will look like as we receive confirmation in waves of their releases. I imagine that shots of arak will be poured, bottles of champagne will be popped. I can so clearly picture the troves of matching shirts with faces of captives, the people expectant and anxious as they await the final transfer of the hostages, the surreal, tear-filled reunions with families.
Most of all, I can picture the collective sigh of relief this country will feel once every last hostage, both living and deceased, is transferred out of the Red Cross “taxi service” (that’s what they are these days, aren’t they?) and back into the custody of Israeli authorities.
Until the last hostage is home, Israelis’ cautious optimism seems to hold.
Hostages home, people joyous yet numb?
On Monday morning, Erev Simchat Torah, as living hostages were being released, I am privileged to sit with the best friends of Evyatar David as they screen his release.
The group of 30 or so friends from different parts of his life, many also friends with David’s childhood best friend and fellow hostage Guy Gilboa-Dalal, sit anxiously awaiting confirmation David is out of Hamas custody – something they never expected could be remotely possible.
They waited for over 24 hours for the final confirmation, comparing the day to Yom Kippur – just with more phones and fidgeting. Guy Melamad and Omer Levi, both 24 and friends of David’s from their service in the Navy, described the atmosphere that morning as “pure anticipation.” The deal, which involved releasing a large number of Palestinian prisoners, was a source of mixed feelings.
“This deal is very hard on the Israeli side. We’re giving up a lot of convicted terrorists with blood on their hands. It’s a very tough decision,” Levi acknowledged, adding that some of his reserve duty involved work in the prisons. He knew that terrorists who had committed the most atrocious crimes received treatment exponentially better than that of the hostages.
Though Israel gave up a lot, the country gained so much more. “I think it shows the Jewish values of cherishing life, and I’m personally very proud to be part of a society that is willing to give up so much for the individual,” Levi told me.
When I looked over at both men, in a sea of matching shirts with Evyatar’s face and writing on the back that read “We are strong,” I saw tears and the rawest emotion I could imagine. They love him as a brother, and seeing him finally be free was a euphoric moment.
Mixed emotions: can we celebrate yet?
Yet, these celebrations still feel premature. Don’t get me wrong, I am absolutely elated by the return of our hostages. But something feels off, and I can’t put my finger on it.
The news of Nepalese student Bipin Joshi’s fate absolutely crushed me – real hope he would be returned alive, receiving his body instead – leading me to work through the holiday, something I have not done essentially since Oct. 7. I’d been in contact with Nepalese officials in Israel and their Foreign Ministry representative, and this was not the ending we hoped for nor expected. There are 28 hostages who won’t get to have the same reunions with their families that others did.
By Wednesday morning, October 15, the chagim ended, Hamas had already made it clear they are deliberately holding back bodies – despite the deal stipulating Israel would have every last one by the end of Tuesday night. As we go to print, at least 15 bodies are still in the terror group’s clutches.
Hamas is also not hiding its actions to rearm, clashing with rival clans and shamelessly holding public executions of Gazans. Sanctions had been threatened, by both Israel and Trump.
Is this just another game? Will it end? Is it fair to take off our yellow ribbons?
My cautious optimism, I find, has transitioned into numbness.
We need to brace ourselves for a long road of speed bumps alongside mourning and healing – and must be patient in the process.
My optimism after these last two years will remain forever cautious. I’ve heard it referred to as “cautious pessimism” – and perhaps that’s fitting as well.