Yesterday, Israel announced that the final remaining hostage, Ran Gvili, has been returned home. Now, for the first time since 2014, there are no hostages remaining in Gaza.

For 843 days, the reality of the hostages has defined this chapter of Israeli and Jewish history. It has shaped how we marked time, how we spoke about the war, and how we understood what remained unresolved. Long after the initial shock of October 7, the presence of the hostages served as a constant reminder that the events of that day were not confined to the past but rather were ongoing, unfolding in real time, carried daily by families and communities alike.

Over 200 people were taken on October 7. They came from different backgrounds, generations, and walks of life. Some were civilians taken from their homes, others were soldiers and first responders who ran head first into danger to protect fellow Israelis. Some returned alive. Many did not. All were denied the most basic rights of safety, dignity, and humanity in their time in captivity. 

At the same time, this moment forces an uncomfortable reality into view. By demonstrating, again and again, that we will do almost anything to bring our people home, we have also sent a message to Hamas that hostage-taking works. That abducting civilians, withholding bodies, and prolonging suffering can be used as leverage. That reality is deeply troubling.

I’m not saying this to question the moral necessity of bringing every hostage home. That obligation is absolute. But acknowledging this danger matters. It reminds us that while our commitment to human life and dignity is a source of moral strength, it also creates vulnerabilities that our enemies are willing to exploit. Holding both truths at once is difficult—but necessary. And still, despite that danger, we do what we must.

Because bringing our people home is not a tactic. It is a value. It is a refusal to abandon those who were taken. It is a declaration that no one is disposable, and no family should be left without answers.

The return of the final hostage does not erase the trauma of October 7, nor does it resolve the grief that so many families will carry forward. But it does bring an end to the uncertainty that has lingered for 843 days. It allows mourning to begin where waiting once stood. It restores a measure of dignity to those who were denied it for far too long.

Fraternally submitted with an eternal debt to: Adi Dagan, Tal Katz, Pessi Cohen, Yitzhak Sitton, Hanna Sitton, Tal Sitton, Suhaib Abu Amer Razeem, Liel Hetzroni, Yanai Hetzroni, Ayala Hetzroni, Hava Ben-Ami, Ze'ev Hakar, Zahava Hakar, Ran Gvili, Sudthisak Rinthalak, Dror Or, Meni Godard, Lior Rudaeff, Joshua Luito Mollel, Itay Chen, Oz Daniel, Asaf Hamami, Omer Neutra, Sahar Baruch, Amiram Cooper, Tamir Adar, Arye Zalmanovich, Tal Haimi, Ronen Engel, Sonthaya Oakkharasri, Eliyahu Margalit, Muhammad El-Atrash, Inbar Haiman, Tamir Nimrodi, Uriel Baruch, Eitan Levy, Guy Iluz, Bipin Joshi, Daniel Perez, Yossi Sharabi, Idan Shtivi, Ilan Weiss, Ofra Keidar, Shay Levinson, Yonatan Samerano, Aviv Atzili, Yair Yaakov, Nattapong Pinta, Gad Haggai, Judy Weinstein-Haggai, Itzik Elgarat, Tsachi Idan, Shlomo Mansour, Ohad Yahalomi, Shiri Bibas, Ariel Bibas, Kfir Bibas, Oded Lifshitz, Hamza Ziyadne, Youssef Ziyadne, Itay Svirsky, Ori Danino, Carmel Gat, Hersh Goldberg-Polin, Alexander Lobanov, Almog Sarusi, Eden Yerushalmi, Shaked Dahan, Yagev Buchshtab, Alex Dancyg, Nadav Popplewell, Yoram Metzger, Avraham Munder, Chaim Peri, Tomer Ahimas, Kiril Brodski, Oren Goldin, Maya Goren, Ravid Katz, Orión Hernández Radoux, Michel Nisenbaum, Hanan Yablonka, Ron Binyamin, Amit Buskila, Itzhak Gelerenter, Shani Louk, Elad Katzir, Yotam Haim, Alon Shamriz, Samer Talalka, Nik Beizer, Ron Sherman, Elia Toledano, Ziv Dado, Eden Zecharya, Ofir Tzarfati, Noa Marciano, Yehudit Waiss.

‍They died for Israel, so we could live for it