OPINION: A day of light and shadow

On Monday I stood in Jerusalem among family, friends and community—cheering and weeping as, one by one, the hostages returned, falling into arms that had waited far too long. Their return is a moment of immense relief, a long-delayed breath finally released. And yet, it is a time tinged with sorrow.

On Tuesday I joined a special havdalah, marking the end of Simchat Torah, two years in the Hebrew calendar after the horrendous attacks of 7 October. My words that evening reflected on the customary blessings of thanksgiving for joyful events, and also for situations of sorrow. I shared hagomel, a blessing said after leaving a situation of great danger. This felt poignant for soldiers, for those in shelters, and for the physically and mentally broken and at risk.

For some families, this is the day they dreamed of. For others, it confirms their deepest heartbreak. For many, this day comes many months too late. I think especially of two precious sons of my congregation, Hersh Goldberg-Polin and Yuval Shoham. Every hug we witnessed carries with it the weight of the hugs that will never happen.

These parallel emotions—joy and grief—are not contradictions; they are the honest shape of this moment. To celebrate without acknowledging the pain would be dishonest. To sink only into mourning would erase the hard-won victories of determined citizens who refused to give up.

I think of Einav Zangauker. After a two-year struggle, she finally holds her son again. The New Israel Fund awarded Einav the “Truth to Power” prize, with the understanding that only a stubborn, uncompromising civil struggle could bring the government to the negotiating table and create the conditions for the hostages’ return. Einav, and so many like her, turned personal agony into public courage.

This struggle was not easy. There were those who tried to silence the families, who incited against them, who sought to sow division to deflect from government failure. In the face of that, the families stood tall. Around them gathered organizations, movements, and countless individuals who gave everything—time, energy, sometimes even their own sense of safety—to fight for the return of the kidnapped.

The Hostages and Missing Families Forum became the beating heart of this movement. From the first day of its establishment in those darkest days after 7 October, the New Israel Fund was among the earliest and most generous funders. When Einav began to lead demonstrations, we stood alongside her from the very beginning. This was not charity; it was solidarity. Civil society—determined, organized, moral—was the engine of change.

This was one of the largest and most effective civil struggle since the founding of the state. It brought together people who refused to be divided by fear or cynicism, who understood that the lives of the hostages were not bargaining chips but a national moral imperative.

This week, twenty families embraced their loved ones after 738 days of captivity in Gaza. These reunions are the fruit of relentless, organized, courageous action by ordinary citizens. They remind us that when political leadership falters, the public can—and must—step into the void.

We cannot let the joy of this day make us complacent. Healing for those who return will be long and uneven. The grief of those who do not have someone to welcome home will not soften quickly. And the struggle is not over; for the sake of all the families who call this land home, we must keep pursuing a more peaceful future.

As I watched the scenes unfold, I felt immense pride in Israeli civil society. Protest movements, NGOs, volunteers, and families have shown the kind of leadership and moral clarity too often lacking from those who hold official office. This is a time to express gratitude to everyone who refused to give up, who built a wall of solidarity when others turned away.

For those of us at the New Israel Fund, this pride comes with responsibility. We supported this movement from the start, and we will continue to do so, as we work toward a society rooted in justice, peace, and mutual care.

May those who have returned find their way back to life. May those mourning find comfort and healing. And may we take this moment as a turning point—walking together on a path of solidarity and, hopefully, peace.

Shira Ben Sasson Furstenberg is New Israel Fund’s Associate Director, based in Jerusalem