By Leah Garber
On day 438 of the war, we received news of two more fallen soldiers, bringing the total number of IDF soldiers lost in combat to 818. They are heroes who sacrificed their lives, leaving behind 818 families whose lives are forever shattered; widows with children who must now piece together the fragments of their lives and maintain their family unit; and bereaved parents who will never fully recover, carrying an emptiness in their hearts forever. They also leave siblings, lovers, and friends for whom this number is not merely a statistic, but represents a tapestry of life, dreams that will never be fulfilled, a hollow future, and an infinite longing.
Last night, two reservists, Major Moshiko (Maxim) Rosenwald, a 35-year-old company commander and father of an infant, and Major General Alexander Anusov, a 26-year-old class commander were killed in a building collapse in Gaza. Both Moshiko and Alexander were neighbors, from the town of Modi’in, my neighbors. They served lengthy periods in Gaza, were mission-driven, and well aware of the risks. In his last Facebook post, Moshiko shared: “The day when all extremes fall silent, and only the beautiful people of Israel remain, is approaching—do not despair, the people of Israel live.” Moshiko was referring to the heated, polarized public discourse in Israeli society that has been gaining momentum these days around various issues concerning the country’s future and character.
In the first days after the war broke out, we were all wrapped and kept each other warm and comforted under the same notion of shock, trauma, pain, and fear. It happened instantly, overnight, and followed a long painful period during which we were divided over judicial reform and its implications for Israeli democracy. Immediately following that black Shabbat of October 7, 2023, the extremes reconnected, the frayed threads tightened, the delicate fabric united, and the sense of “togetherness”—expressed not only in declarations and stickers but primarily in shared heartbeats—was empowering, comforting, encouraging. However, we quickly returned to old habits, internal disputes, and arguments. The background noise of division began to erode the sense of “together we will triumph.” Doubt was cast on the meaning of “together,” the significance of the promised victory, and its price.
Moshiko, Alexander, and the other 816 fallen soldiers, their brothers and sisters in arms, went into battle knowing they were risking their lives primarily to bring the hostages home and protect Israel’s borders and people. They were not concerned with politics nor myriad disputes. Soldiers from all walks of life fought shoulder to shoulder and saw themselves in their fellow warriors—Israelis protecting their home, together.
On day 438, discourse about an approaching deal for the release of hostages that may be closer than ever is gaining momentum. Disputes over the number and identity of hostages to be released in exchange for release of an unknown number of Hamas terrorists and the withdrawal of Israeli forces from Gaza remain numerous, but these talks might be fruitful this time, yielding hope for some of the hostages. Only for some, however, and this is the heart of one of the most difficult disputes, one of the impossible dilemmas currently facing Israel’s leadership: What consequences will the hostages left behind need to endure or, God forbid, won’t endue?
On the surface, everything must be done to free the hostages—the sons and daughters and the brothers and sisters of us all. However, when breaking down the details of the agreement into its possible consequences, one realizes that a deal with the devil requires courage and cold, rational judgment detached from emotion. If Israel agrees to the proposed deal, only those hostages defined as “humanitarian cases” will be released, meaning those whose lives are at risk—the elderly, the sick, the weak. It’s unclear to me who, after 438 days in cruel and violent captivity, isn’t a humanitarian case, but these are the definitions. If indeed these individuals are released now, what does it mean for the others? Are the stronger ones, presumably the male soldiers among the hostages, destined to remain behind, to rot in Gaza’s tunnels, to live as dead until the next opportunity? And who knows when that will come and whether they can even survive until then.
Alternately, there are calls to release all the hostages in exchange for an immediate, complete cessation of the war and withdrawal of all Israeli forces from Gaza. If this option is accepted, wouldn’t the blood of the 818 fallen soldiers have been shed in vain? Did they sacrifice their lives only to see the war’s achievements—removing the Hamas terrorist threat from Israel’s border and ensuring that the October 7 massacre won’t repeat itself—nullified as the vacuum created by the withdrawal of Israeli forces will be filled immediately by Hamas militants emerging from across the Strip? It’s important to note that even after approximately 14 months of hard and persistent fighting, Hamas still maintains operational capability—and certainly motivation. Although their military capabilities, particularly the number of terrorists and command infrastructure, have been impressively damaged, Hamas remains armed, continues to launch rockets at southern Israel, and above all, is known for the ability to rebuild quickly.
As with any deal, Israel must agree to release terrorists from Israeli prisons. These are terrorists with the blood of innocent Israelis on their hands, terrorists who served in our country’s prisons with motivation to murder our citizens. When they leave prison their motivation will be intensified, fueled by a desire for revenge, just like that of the architect of the October 7 massacre, who was released from an Israeli prison in 2011 as part of the deal to free captured soldier Gilad Shalit. Will the release of these bloodthirsty, revenge-seeking terrorists endanger countless Israelis in the future? Is saving lives today worth risking others tomorrow?
Not only will these decisions affect the fate of many but also will shape Israel’s character and identity for generations to come. What will become of us, and how will we be remembered in the country’s chronicles if we don’t do everything possible to bring all the hostages home? Once again, I’m grateful that it is not up to me to make these complex, fateful decisions that affect human lives and the future of the state.
It’s easy to sit at home—here in Israel and across the ocean—far from the center of decision-making and be critical and express an opinion one way or another. Amid all the disputes, I do know this: There isn’t a single person in Israel—in leadership, the military, or the public at large—who doesn’t want all 100 hostages to return home quickly and safely. The dilemma is this: At what price and against what risk?
The coming days will be crucial for the future of the hostages, their families, and the entire state of Israel. I am certain that together with all of you I pray and hope that the decisions made will be the best possible under these impossible circumstances and will bring tidings of freedom to the hostages and their families. We all desperately need good news, and may it be that around the bright lights of Hanukkah, embraced in the arms of their loved ones, the faces of the hostages who have been in darkness for far too long will be illuminated.
Together, united, we will overcome.
Leah Garber is a senior vice president of JCC Association of North America and director of its Center for Israel Engagement in Jerusalem.
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