Day 734: Iron Swords War

An entire people awakened this morning with broad smiles across weary faces. An entire nation, which for 734 days carried bent backs and stooped shoulders, stood a little taller today. We all lift our heads—in gratitude, relief, and profound joy. The hostages are coming home!

After two years of blood-soaked war, with 1,997 fallen, thousands wounded in body and soul, and an entire people traumatized, the end of the nightmare finally draws near. The light at the end of the tunnel shines bright and full of promise, and it is so very, very close.

Many partners share in bringing the hostages home and ending this war. First and foremost, the hostage families who, for 734 days and nights, refused to let their loved ones sink into the abyss of oblivion. They protested and cried out; they begged and pleaded with voices that would not be silenced. They gave interviews across the globe, spoke from every platform imaginable, knocked on the doors of presidents and prime ministers throughout the free world, and transformed the yellow ribbon—the symbol of the hostages—into the color that bound an entire nation together. These heroic families never gave up: parents, children, siblings, entire communities whose hearts were torn away to Gaza alongside their loved ones. Since that black Shabbat, their singular mission to bring them home became the oxygen they breathed, their very reason for being.

Our brave soldiers—determined and devoted to their people and homeland—left home and family behind, and time after time answered the call to long and dangerous service, working tirelessly to remove the threat of Hamas from our borders and eradicate the evil at our doorstep.

President Trump promised and delivered. Through unwavering determination, he assembled Arab nations to support his proposal, leaving Hamas no choice but to comply in the face of a stubborn enemy coalition, coupled with Israel’s ironclad resolve to crush the terrorist organization if it refused.

On this day of hope, we pause to remember the heroes who will not return—those among us who fought and fell like lions in battle—and their bereaved families who carry an unbearable weight. We remember the 1,163 victims of the October 7 massacre— infants, children, elderly, women and men, Jews and Arabs, Israelis and foreigners—whose lives were savagely cut down by murderers’ hands. We remember those displaced from their destroyed homes, still seeking shelter. We remember the 251 hostages who were taken—dead, alive, or seriously wounded.

The coming days will be turbulent—a bittersweet mix of infinite joy and searing sorrow: Joy at the sight of hostages returning to Israeli soil, embraced by their families at last, and sorrow for the families of the murdered hostages, who cannot embrace their loved ones and instead face a silent coffin draped in our nation’s flag.

May this be the final post from the Iron Swords War. May we stand at the threshold of an Israel beginning its long journey toward recovery and healing. May Hostages Square in Tel Aviv return to its original purpose as the entrance plaza to the Tel Aviv Museum. May the benevolent light of the sun shine upon us always, and may we celebrate Simchat Torah next week—exactly two years after the greatest disaster to befall us since the Holocaust—with our hearts whole once more.

We will never forget. But our eyes now face a new tomorrow, when we will all recite the Shehecheyanu together: “Blessed are You, Eternal One, Sovereign of all, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this time.”

 בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה, יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ, מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לַזְּמַן הַזֶּה

 Chag Sukkot sameach!

Leah Garber is a senior vice president of JCC Association of North America and director of its Center for Israel Engagement in Jerusalem.