On the surface, the long-prayed-for return of hostages from Hamas captivity feels like a moment of relief and celebration in Israel. Children and parents will finally return to the arms of their families and have a chance to rebuild their shattered lives. It is past time.
And yet, there's an undercurrent of rage, despair, and disgust running through the country over the hostage-ceasefire deal announced on Wednesday.
Rage at being forced to negotiate with the butchers responsible for the October 7 massacre.
Despair that, at best, only 33 of the 98 hostages will be released in the first phase—and that many families may never see their loved ones return alive.
Disgust at the hundreds of convicted Palestinian terrorists about to be set free. For every civilian hostage released by Hamas, Israel will release 30 prisoners—50 for every female soldier Hamas releases. Some of these prisoners will undoubtedly return to violence.
Israel will try to save the life of Kfir Bibas— the red-haired baby who has spent most of his life in captivity—in exchange for unrepentant murderers.
There is no moral equivalence here. It is perverse extortion, plain and simple. This deal conjures some of the darkest chapters in Jewish history when Jewish names appeared on lists, and our enemies decided who would live and who would die.
Israelis know this pain. The country has made unfathomable sacrifices before to bring its people home. In 2011, Israel released more than 1,000 Palestinian prisoners in exchange for one soldier, Gilad Shalit, who had been held hostage by Hamas for five years. One of those freed prisoners was Yahya Sinwar, who went on to mastermind the Oct. 7, 2023 massacre.
The harrowing reality is that Hamas may have once again learned a chilling lesson: that abducting Israelis is a devastatingly effective tactic to fracture Israeli society and extract excruciating concessions.
Hamas is not a political organization seeking reconciliation. It is a genocidal terror group. Its charter calls for the annihilation of Israel and the murder of Jews. Can you imagine the United States negotiating with the Taliban as equals just 15 months after the Sept. 11 attacks? I can't.
For Hamas, this deal is a victory. The group will boast that it outmaneuvered Israel, extracted concessions, and reaffirmed that terrorism works.
In Gaza, people are already dancing in the streets. Khalil al-Haya, a senior Hamas leader, has already declared that the Oct. 7 attacks will "forever be a source of pride" and promised another assault. "Our people will expel the occupation from our lands and from Jerusalem in the earliest time possible," he said.
We've heard these threats before. We've seen what follows.
The grim reality is that some families will remain in agonizing limbo because Hamas knows it can ensure its survival by holding onto hostages and extracting more concessions from Israel.
Still, despite the immense cost and risk, I believe Israel must bring its hostages home.
There is no doubt that Israel has made significant military gains since the start of the war. It has destroyed most of Hamas's battalions, wiped out the top leadership of Hamas and Hezbollah, humiliated Iran, and restored its regional deterrence.
But for all those gains, Israel remains frozen in time on Oct. 7 — the day 1,200 people were slaughtered. The country is desperate to save the lives of those who can still be saved. The state has a duty to bring home the civilians who were ripped from their homes and the soldiers who were sent to protect the state. Prioritizing life is an agonizing choice, but it is the right one.
But the world must understand the dangerous precedent this deal has set. For 15 months, the terrorists watched as Israel, a democratic nation subjected to atrocities by a brutal terror organization, was castigated in international courts and demonized in the court of public opinion. Israel was restrained militarily and made to negotiate with its terrorist attackers.
This moral equivalence is wildly dangerous. Today, it is Israeli civilians. Tomorrow, it will be others. Hamas's existence isn't just a threat to Israel—it's a threat to all of us. And it will come at a cost we cannot yet fully comprehend.
The return of hostages is not a victory. It is a tragic necessity.
Aviva Klompas is the former director of speechwriting at the Israeli Mission to the United Nations and co-founder of Boundless Israel, a nonprofit organization that partners with community leaders in the U.S. to support Israel education and combat hatred of Jews. She is co-host of the Boundless Insights podcast.
The views expressed in this article are the writer's own
