‘Closing a circle of sadness’: Euphoric homecomings in Israel and Gaza
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| Tel Aviv, Israel; and Deir al-Balah, Gaza Strip
Anticipation in Hostages Square, the Tel Aviv piazza that has become ground zero for the struggle to bring home Israelis held by Hamas in Gaza, was in the stratosphere on a day many had begun to despair of seeing.
Tens of thousands of people had gathered, starting in force before dawn Monday. Most do not even know the hostages personally, but feel as if they do after getting to know their families and hearing the stories of their abductions and the lives they had lived before the war.
They were there to witness history, the dramatic implementation of the first phase of the Gaza ceasefire plan put forward by U.S. President Donald Trump. The 20-point plan seeks to end the devastating war begun with Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023, attack and to set the region on a path toward a more comprehensive peace.
Why We Wrote This
The long-awaited day that saw the return of surviving Israeli hostages and Palestinian prisoners included an early indication of the tough challenges that await Donald Trump’s Gaza plan. Yet on a whirlwind trip to Israel and Egypt, the U.S. president said the time for peace is now.
First came word that the initial group of surviving hostages had been transferred to the Red Cross, then to the Israeli army, and soon after to their awaiting families. Each announcement received cheers, as did photos of the hostages that flashed on the large screen in the center of the square.
Then, suddenly a helicopter buzzed high above the packed crowd, and an announcer shouted out, “It’s Gali and Ziv Berman!” A cheering roar of euphoria erupted as people looked skyward, waving their hands, hugging and hoisting flags, and wiping away tears of relief.
“It’s real; it’s happening. They are here, with us. At home,” the announcer said, her voice reverberating with emotion.
The announcer was referring to the Berman twins, neither of them seen since the morning of the Hamas attack in which they were kidnapped together from their kibbutz, yet they were known to have been held separately. Their ordeal was part of an unprecedented mass hostage-taking that has been a gaping, ongoing trauma for the country.
The Berman twins are two of 20 living hostages returned in a swap for 1,950 Palestinian prisoners and detainees, along with what is supposed to be the handover of the bodies of 28 deceased Israeli hostages.
For Palestinians, fragile joy
The scenes welcoming back the Palestinian detainees Monday afternoon were no less emotional. As buses carrying freed prisoners inched forward along jam-packed streets in Beitunia, just outside Ramallah in the West Bank, and in Khan Yunis in southern Gaza, police could not hold the crowds back.
A man in a red T-shirt into the arms of a prisoner leaning from a bus window in Khan Yunis. One of the newly freed in the West Bank dropped to his knees in front of his mother and kissed her feet. As ululations and celebratory gunfire filled the air, the mood was one of fragile joy. Peace felt raw, with many in the crowds and across Gaza unsure if the recent ceasefire would hold.
“There is joy, and there is pain, and there is happiness, and there is sorrow,” Khalil Muhammad Abdulrahman al-Qatrous as he waited in Khan Yunis for his son, who had been detained for three months.
Among the newly released were around 1,700 from Gaza detained without charge in the last two years, as well as 250 serving longer sentences, mostly for deadly attacks on Israelis. Of the latter group, 154 were exiled to Egypt, where Israeli authorities say they will be sent on to third countries.
Meanwhile, in a first stumble for the Trump plan, Hamas released only four of the deceased hostages, saying it needed time to locate the other bodies. Israel called foul, charging the Islamic militant group with already violating the agreement. Representatives of the hostages’ families even called to break off the deal because of it.
The dispute is a window into the challenges facing the agreement, especially how and if Hamas will disarm and who will govern Gaza. The seaside enclave is today only a shadow of its former self: Some 67,000 residents were killed in the fighting, most buildings have been damaged or destroyed, and the majority of its 2 million people are homeless.
Yet as Mr. Trump flew to Israel, where he met with two previously released hostages and spoke to the Knesset, he carried with him the message that the war, in his eyes, was definitely over and it was time to set the country’s sights on peace.
“You’ve won. I mean, you’ve won,” Mr. Trump told Israel’s parliament. “Now, it is time to translate these victories against terrorists on the battlefield into the ultimate prize of peace and prosperity for the entire Middle East.”
He then reboarded Air Force One to Egypt for a summit focused on his 20-point plan to end the war and rebuild and restructure Gaza.
Personal trials
Across the West Bank and Gaza, the mass celebrations were tempered by personal trials.
Images from the releases echoed across Palestinian social media Monday: clips of fathers carrying their grown sons, and men collapsing in their mothers’ arms. This is “the first time [in years] I am seeing blue sky without wire,” one stunned released man in Gaza told Al Jazeera.
Yet other Palestinians remain in Israeli prisons, according to the Israeli human rights organization HaMoked, including some .
And, like the returning Israelis, many of those emerging from the buses in Beitunia and Khan Yunis were also gaunt. Some leaned on relatives or medical staff as they emerged from the buses. Others spoke emotionally to reporters of their experiences in Israeli prisons, where many said they had been beaten, starved, and denied medical care.
Journalist Shadi Abu Sido, a cameraman for Palestine TV captured in the early days of the war and released in Gaza Monday, asked a colleague if his parents were OK. “Yes,” the colleague told him. “Are you OK?”
“No,” Mr. Sido replied. “I am not.”
“A season for everything”
At Hostages Square, which may now be redubbed “Homecoming Square” and was the site of weekly and sometimes daily vigils and protests for much of the war, a few hundred gathered starting Sunday evening. They stayed overnight, singing songs around a piano donated to honor one of the hostages who returned Monday, Alon Ohel, a gifted young pianist.
Others swayed to the steps of Israeli folk dances. In one part of the square, traditional dawn prayers were recited.
Rachel Goldberg-Polin, the American-born mother whose son Hersh was executed by Hamas in a Gaza tunnel along with five others over a year ago, gave a speech Saturday night in Jerusalem that gave voice to the bittersweet mix of emotions Israelis were facing.
She said that the Book of Ecclesiastes, read for the holiday of Sukkot, observed this past week, instructs that there’s “a season for everything and a time for everything. But now, we are being asked to digest all of those seasons, all of those times, at the exact same second - winter, spring, summer, fall.”
Referring to Israeli hostages killed in captivity, soldiers who fell in the war, and victims of Oct. 7, she said, “It says there is a time to be born and a time to die, and we have to do both right now. There is a time to sob and a time to dance, and we have to do both right now.”
“The lioness”
Ms. Goldberg-Polin has become one of the most visible figures in the fight to return the hostages, alongside another mother, Einav Zangauker, whose son, Matan, was released in the deal.
The sight of mother and son finally reunited was broadcast on the square’s large screen, prompting strangers to tearfully hug one another. In Israel, Ms. Zangauker, a former supporter of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s who became one of his fiercest critics, is called “the lioness.”
“We have been watching her give speeches, and shouting, watching with awe her incredible strength for two years. She has become a symbol, a superhero. To see her with Matan is a highlight of this day,” says Carmel Kandel, an actor.
“We had become used to seeing these people only as faces on posters. Seeing this feels like we are watching a miracle,” says her sister Rona Kandel, who works in real estate.
Nearby stood Varda Ben-Ami, a university administrator from central Israel, using an Israeli flag as a head covering to protect herself from the beating sun: “For me, today is closing a circle of two years of sadness.”