Global negotiators struggle for a Gaza cease-fire while these mothers aim to forge a solution.
From Mexico to Argentina, India, and the US, mothers worldwide unite. Now, these Israeli moms turn their grief into activism to rescue their children.
Idit Ohel’s son should be at a stage where he’s establishing his own life.
As any loving mother would, she visited IKEA for new furnishings. Since he enjoys cooking, she picked up a brand-new grill. He dreamed of attending music school, so she shared all about how brilliantly he plays the piano.
But her son, Alon Ohel, won’t be enrolling at the Rimon School of Music in Tel Aviv this fall, which is when Israeli schools usually begin their academic year.
For the past year, he has been a hostage of Hamas somewhere in Gaza.
Idit and her husband, Ronen, have spent the last year preparing for his return while keeping Alon’s aspirations alive.
He is passionate about cars, especially Teslas. She bought him a Tesla, which now sits in the garage mostly untouched. She instructed her husband not to clean it – she wants Alon to enjoy its fresh new-car scent.
“I don’t care about the price,” she declared. “I just want to see my son smile again.”
Over the last year, mothers of hostages, like Idit Ohel, have emerged as prominent public figures advocating for a deal that would free their loved ones – be they young Israeli soldiers, young women captured at a music festival, or fathers with families.
However, negotiations remain stalled between Hamas and Israel, with the expanding conflict involving Hezbollah in Lebanon and Israel’s commitment to retaliate against an Iranian missile strike pulling focus away from their pleas as they mark a year steeped in advocacy and sorrow.
It’s important to acknowledge that all families with loved ones taken hostage are engulfed in anguish. Yet, some mothers, who feel a unique kind of suffering, aim to strengthen their connection with one another to bolster their moral authority in their quest to bring their loved ones home.
Throughout history, mothers have united globally.
Examples include Mexico’s Madres Buscadoras for the missing, Argentina’s Madres de Plaza de Mayo, who stood up against a dictatorship when their children vanished, and the “mother’s line” of demonstrators during the 2021 protests in the US regarding police violence, as noted by Lester Kurtz, a sociologist at George Mason University studying these movements.
In Israel, the “Four Mothers” movement in the 1990s aimed to influence public opinion regarding the Israeli military withdrawal from southern Lebanon. Israel had occupied this region since 1982 amid the Lebanese Civil War, pulling out in 2000.
Whether this new initiative will empower mothers to amplify their voices amid the fast-evolving conflict remains uncertain. Some hostage families believe their calls have been recognized but often ignored since Hamas launched an unprecedented attack that led to over 1,200 deaths and ignited a war with the militant group, resulting in tens of thousands of Palestinian casualties.
As they approach the one-year mark since this tragedy, which was the deadliest for Jews since the Holocaust, some of these mothers of hostages are desperately seeking anything that could revive momentum for a release agreement.
Mothers of Gaza Hostages Are Pushed into Activism
It’s a call that haunts every mother.
“Mommy, I was shot. I’m bleeding,” Meirav Leshem Gonen’s daughter cried during a phone call. “And I think I’m going to die.”
Her daughter, 24-year-old Romi Gonen, had attended the Supernova music festival in Re’im.
When Hamas militants invaded the area, Romi called her mother. On the line, Leshem Gonen heard the ensuing sounds of rockets. She urged her daughter to find safety: “Get to the car and leave there,” she instructed.
When escape proved impossible, Romi sought refuge in some bushes.
In a moment of desperation, Leshem Gonen did what all mothers would do: she tried to comfort her daughter, even though it meant reassuring her with words she didn’t believe. “I know I’m lying because I have no answers,” Leshem Gonen shared at a press conference a few weeks after the attack.
Suddenly, Romi and her friends came under attack. Keeping the line open, her mother heard the horrifying chaos – sounds of gunfire and the gasp of a boy struggling to breathe beside her dying daughter, followed by shouts in Arabic.
“They approached my daughter’s side, pulled her out, and dragged her down the street. Eventually, they forced her into the car,” she shared with YSL News during a recent interview.
Then, the connection went silent.
On that day, she wished she could just hide away. However, her motherly instincts kicked in, driving her to protect her daughter at all costs.
“I am a doer. I need to take action for my kids, and if one of them is in danger, I act. I cannot just sit still,” said Leshem Gonen, who previously worked as a business consultant.
The next day, she attended a news conference with other hostage families. She soon became affiliated with the Hostage and Missing Family Forum, which initiated the global “Bring Them Home Now” campaign. This group has organized protests, marches, media appearances, and discussions with politicians, including Netanyahu and President Joe Biden.
She recalled a public gathering where she saw the audience’s emotional response to her story told from a mother’s perspective. “I realized the influence I have as a mother,” she mentioned.
That strength was mirrored in Ohel, whose son Alon, 23, was captured at the same festival after seeking refuge in a shelter with others. Nonetheless, it did not make her situation any easier.
On October 7, while walking her dog, she received a call from her father inquiring about Alon’s safety. She texted him: “Everything is fine; we’re in a shelter,” he replied, as she recounted in a column for The Free Press. They kept in touch.
By midnight that evening, her husband learned the tragic truth: “He was kidnapped alive,” he informed her.
The news struck her hard.
“I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath for a moment,” she stated. “My other kids – my 20-year-old son and my 14-year-old daughter – were looking at me, waiting to see how I would respond.”
She took a deep breath.
“We are going to fight this. We’ll ensure that Alon makes it home,” Ohel said. “I could either curl up in bed until he returns, crying endlessly, or I can fight for him.”
The anguish remains vivid, even a year on.
Ohel likes to picture the joyful smile Alon had when they reunited at Bangkok airport during his travels in Southeast Asia. He had greeted his ima with open arms.
However, she struggles to forget the disturbing footage of Hamas militants forcefully dragging her injured son by his hair across the ground before he vanished.
“I cried for about an hour today. It lingers right here. It’s always with me,” she expressed recently. “But that doesn’t stop me from doing everything in my power to bring him home.”
Over the past year, some mothers who were once hesitant to become public advocates due to their private suffering have now actively joined the cause, noted Leshem Gonen.
Dahlia Scheindlin, a political analyst in Israel, stated that mothers have played vital roles in the Israeli discussion surrounding the hostage crisis, driven by their unwavering commitment and love for their children, which resonates with many.
“You can see their anguish; you witness their total dedication as they fight for their children,” Scheindlin remarked.
Out of the initial 251 hostages, over 100 have been freed, mostly women and children, in a trade for 240 Palestinian prisoners and a four-day ceasefire in November.
Israeli military forces have rescued eight additional hostages, but tragically, three hostages were inadvertently killed by Israeli forces. On August 31, officials announced the discovery of six hostages’ bodies, who had been shot multiple times at close range by Hamas in a tunnel in Gaza.
One of them was Hersh Goldberg-Polin, 23, who had been in the same shelter as Alon.
Frustrated mothers seek a stronger voice
Rachel Goldberg-Polin described the months her son was held hostage as an “odyssey of torture.” Nevertheless, by late summer this year, she began to feel hopeful that her son would return alive.
She characterized Hersh as a cheerful soul, born in Oakland, California, a young man who cherished respect, soccer, and had a room filled with globes and National Geographic magazines. On October 7, he attended the music festival celebrating his birthday.
When the attack began, he and several others sought refuge in a small bomb shelter. Hamas militants threw grenades inside, resulting in one death and severely injuring Hersh, who lost his left forearm. He was then transported in a pickup truck to Gaza.
The following days felt like “living in another world,” she reflected during an appearance with her husband at the August Democratic National Convention, where she worked to raise awareness about the hostage crisis in the U.S. She wore the number 320 to symbolize the days that had passed since his abduction.
Shortly thereafter, in early September, she found herself in Jerusalem, eulogizing her son. Speaking directly to him, she expressed her feelings almost like a plea for teshuvah, or atonement, asking for his forgiveness if she had failed to consider something critical.
that possibly could have liberated him.
“Hersh, throughout these months, I have been in constant agony and distress about you every single moment of every day. It was a unique kind of suffering that I had never felt before. I made a concerted effort to hide how much I missed you, believing it would utterly destroy me. So for 330 days, I was terrified, anxious, and fearful. It felt like it was choking me and my spirit burned with unbearable pain,” she asserted.
The urgency to secure the safe return of the remaining hostages grew “multiplied by a million” following those fatalities, said Orna Neutra from New York, who is closely tied to Goldberg-Polin and whose own son, Omer, 22, was captured while serving as a commander in the Israeli Defense Forces. “It felt like it shattered all of our hearts.”
The deaths of the six hostages sparked protests throughout Israel demanding the government take action to negotiate the hostages’ release. According to Israeli media, an estimated 500,000 individuals assembled in cities like Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, as reported by Reuters. Protesters in Jerusalem blocked traffic, including areas outside the prime minister’s residence.
However, not everyone shares the same view. Public opinion surveys have varied, but approximately 60% of Israelis consistently show support for striking a deal with Hamas to retrieve the hostages, regardless of the cost, according to Scheindlin.
In September, the U.S. and France suggested a plan to also cease hostilities between Hezbollah and Israel. Since then, Israel has intensified its engagements with Hezbollah, targeting and eliminating prominent leaders, and has pledged to respond to missile attacks from Iran.
Many individuals expressed frustration that their efforts had not resulted in any progress. Orly Gilboa, whose 20-year-old daughter was taken hostage while serving as a military observer, recounted an occasion in the Knesset where she urged lawmakers to consider what they would do for their mothers if they were the ones taken captive.
“Regrettably, there wasn’t a single woman present among them,” she noted.
Neutra also expressed her exasperation with how leaders and negotiators are more focused on showcasing power rather than striving towards a resolution. “One of the things Rachel said early on was that if mothers were in charge, this situation would have been resolved,” she remarked.
Even before participating in the recent commemorations for October 7, which called for renewed negotiations for the hostages’ release, some mothers began discussing collaborative efforts to reach other mothers and potentially shift public sentiment.
“Therefore, we are uniting as mothers, as a collective force,” Gilboa stated. “Together we approach decision-makers, meet with them, and amplify our voices.”
As time passes, the emotional burden weighs heavily on mothers
For Yael Adar, the hope of bringing her son back alive has faded. Yet, she continues her fight.
Tamir Adar, 38, assisted with security at Kibbutz Nir Oz during its attack. He instructed his wife to keep their two young children sheltered inside. They survived, but Tamir went missing.
He was taken to Gaza, and while she held on to hope that he was alive, she learned in January that he had died on the day of the attack and that his remains are being held in Gaza.
She has yet to give him a proper burial, unable to process her grief or return to work, she stated.
“His remains are still in Gaza,” she affirmed, insisting that while she understands the potential costs of a hostage deal would be high, it is crucial.
Throughout the past year, the emotional strain caused by fear and worry has affected many mothers whose children were taken hostage.
For instance, Gilboa has expressed concern that her daughter Daniella might face sexual violence, as she revealed to Israeli media this summer. Two Israeli doctors who treated released hostages and an Israeli military official familiar with the situation confirmed to YSL News that some hostages reported experiencing severe sexual assaults while in captivity. Additionally, released hostage Amit Soussana has publicly shared his own experience of sexual abuse during his time in Gaza.
Others are left wondering if their children are among those who are still alive. Reports indicate that Netanyahu told a Knesset committee earlier this week that only half of the 101 hostages are still alive.
Leshem Gonen noted she had received information from intelligence officials and other released hostages stating that Romi was alive and had been spotted in the tunnels.
On day 372 of their struggle for their children’s return, these mothers continue to search for ways to cope with each passing day.
Leshem Gonen feels an unbreakable connection with Romi. She recalls waking up one morning sensing that Romi was crying, or a time she struggled to breathe, realizing it was because Romi was having a hard time as well.
Meanwhile, Neutra takes a piece of masking tape, writing a new three-digit number in black marker — reflecting the days Omer has been held captive — and sticks it on her shirt. It helps her maintain focus on her goal amid the seeming blur of time.
And Ohel who longs to experience the joy of sharing the new car smell with her beloved Aloni.