‘it’s only a glimpse of hope’

This was the moment the Israelites had been longing for. On Sunday afternoon, after 471 long days of being held captive by Hamas in one of the darkest periods in Israel’s history, three young hostages made the arduous journey from captivity in Gaza to their homeland.

The release of the three women — Romi Gonen, Emilie Damari and Doron Steinbrecher — marks the beginning of a multiphase deal that offers an end to the brutal war in Gaza and the release of dozens more hostages more than 15 months later. Woe to them, their families and nations.

But the Israelis’ joy and relief at deliverance is tempered by what the coming weeks will reveal. Israeli officials believe at least half of the remaining 94 hostages are dead. And many doubt the fragile truce will last long enough for everyone to return.

“There’s this dichotomy in this state of mind where it could be the last day [of life] For their husband or child — and the possibility that that same person will be sleeping in the next room next week,” said Udi Goren, whose family is waiting for the return of the body of his cousin, Tal Haimi, who was killed. He was then taken to Gaza on October 7.

“I don’t think words can describe the vast disparity between these two emotions.”

For the past 15 months, the fate of the hostages has been confined to Israel’s national consciousness. The faces of their heyday are plastered and re-plastered on buildings and billboards from Haifa to Eilat. Details of their lives fill daily news bulletins. Rallies to demand government legislation to secure their release have become a weekly fixture.

But as the clock ticked down this weekend on a cease-fire, alongside hopes that at least some would finally be freed, there were reminders of just how volatile the situation has been. Missiles from Yemen set off the terrifying screeching of air raid sirens across the country. In Tel Aviv, a Palestinian stabs an Israeli before being shot dead by a pedestrian.

Meanwhile, Israeli warplanes continued to pound Gaza until Sunday morning after the deal was announced last week, leaving the death toll in the shattered enclave to more than 140, according to Palestinian officials.

“There is a glimmer of hope, but it’s not the end of the tunnel,” said Daria Giladi as she attended a rally in support of the hostages in downtown Jerusalem on Saturday evening.

“You’re happy that people are coming home, you’re happy that the war is going to end, even for a little while. But still so long way to go. Only a third of the hostages are expected to return [in the first six-week phase of the deal]. So it is not enough.”

Even in the first phase of the agreement to release the relatives of the 33 hostages – when children, women, the sick and the elderly will be released – uncertainty is acute.

Sharon Lifschitz’s parents, Yocheved and Oded, lifelong advocates of coexistence with Palestinians, were both detained on October 7. Yochev was released 17 days later. But the family has no idea about their fate. When Yocheved returned, he told his family that he had died. But the hostages, who were released weeks later in a ceasefire in November 2023, said they had seen him alive.

And so for the past 15 months, the family has waited against hope for Oded’s safe return, grappling with what it would mean to survive so long in Hamas captivity with a weak octogenarian shot in the wrist. .

“We all fight for him believing that, until we know otherwise, we want him back. If his luck and his strength hold, and he finds a way to survive against all odds, we look forward to seeing him,” Lifshitz said, his voice trailing off.

“[But] He saw the destruction of everything he fought for. And then he had to be in the hands of the people who did it [that destruction]. And he had to survive somehow when his health was not strong and he was injured. It’s hard to wish that on anyone – let alone the father you love so much.”

Relatives of families who are not due to be released until the second and third phases of the deal — when the remaining surviving male hostages and then the bodies of those who died — will be returned — the uncertainty is greater.

When the previous seven-day ceasefire and hostage exchange for prisoners in November 2023 freed 110 of the 250 hostages originally seized, many in Israel hoped it would lead to more such deals and the return of the rest of the hostages. soon

But what followed was a 14-month false dawn, as Israel and Hamas repeatedly failed to reach an agreement and the number of surviving hostages continued to dwindle. Demands by far-right ministers in Benjamin Netanyahu’s government to repeatedly thwart a deal have angered hostages’ relatives. And it was with their relatives that they were not released until two or three stages for fear that their time might not come.

Among them was Herut Nimrodi, whose then 18-year-old son Tamir was detained in his pajamas, barefoot and without glasses, from his military base near the Erez crossing in the first hours of the Hamas offensive.

Nimrodi knows the exact time of their last message — 06.49am — when Tamir contacts him and says the rocket is landing at the base. The family learned that he had been detained after one of his daughters saw a video on Instagram. But for months they got no indication of his condition. In November, they marked her 20th birthday without knowing “if she even makes it to 19“

“I know my son’s name is not on the list [for release in the first phase]Because he is a soldier, and we are terrified,” Nimrodi said. “What I’m afraid of is not just that we won’t get to the next stage. But that [once the first group have been released] the lobby [for further releases] will be much smaller, because there will be fewer hostages and they are only men.”

Recognition is also widespread that, even for those who return, return will only be a first step. Lifshitz said her mother is coping “better than most of us” with her return from incarceration.

But for those who have spent more than 15 months in captivity, the process can be more difficult. Previously released hostages have reported being kept in cages, or in complete darkness, drugged and beaten, and in some cases tortured or sexually abused.

Hagai Levin, a physician who works with a forum supporting families of hostages, told a press briefing last week that he expected “every side.” [hostages’] Physical and mental health will suffer.” “Time is of the essence – recovery will be a long and painful process,” he said.

But for all the angst over the challenges ahead, families are desperate to start the process. “Everyone in Israel – and certainly families – need to stop. We are now a wounded society. We are traumatized. We haven’t started post-trauma yet,” Nimrodi said. “We have to heal. And it’s a healing process for us as a community to see the hostages come back.”

Lifschitz agrees. “We know that many hostages are not alive and we will have several funerals and Shiva. [mourning periods] sit through,” he said. “But at least, there will be some kind of closure. We will know. At least we will know.”