How Israelis observe Passover’s promise of freedom – while family are held captive

Jews around the world will celebrate Passover sundown on April 22, recounting the story of their exodus from Egypt after centuries of slavery. But for many Israelis, it’s hard to fathom honoring an occasion focused on freedom with friends and family in captivity.

|
Maya Alleruzzo/AP
Empty chairs mark places for missing members of the Bibas family who are held captive in Gaza at a Passover Seder table at a communal dining hall in southern Israel on April 11, 2024.

Every year, Alon Gat’s mother led the family’s Passover celebration of the liberation of the ancient Israelites from Egypt thousands of years ago. But this year, Mr. Gat is struggling with how to reconcile a holiday commemorating freedom after his mother was slain and other family members abducted when Hamas attacked Israel.

Mr. Gat’s sister, Carmel, and wife, Yarden Roman-Gat, were taken hostage in the Oct. 7 attack. His wife was freed in November but his sister remains captive.

“We can’t celebrate our freedom because we don’t have this freedom. Our brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers are still in captivity and we need to release them,” Mr. Gat said.

On April 22, Jews around the world will begin celebrating the weeklong Passover holiday, recounting the biblical story of their exodus from Egypt after hundreds of years of slavery. But for many Israelis, it’s hard to fathom a celebration of freedom when friends and family are not free.

The Hamas attack killed some 1,200 people, while about 250 others were taken hostage. About half were released in a weeklong cease-fire in November, while the rest remain in Gaza, more than 30 of them believed to be dead.

For many Jews, Passover is a time to reunite with family and recount the exodus from Egypt at a meal known as the Seder. Observant Jews avoid grains, known as chametz, a reminder of the unleavened bread the Israelites ate when they fled Egypt quickly with no time for dough to rise.

But this year many families are torn about how – or even if – to celebrate.

When Hamas attacked Kibbutz Be’eri, Mr. Gat, his wife, 3-year-old daughter, parents, and sister hid for hours in their rocket-proof safe room. But fighters entered the house and killed or abducted everyone inside, except for his father who hid in the bathroom. His mother was dragged into the street and shot.

Mr. Gat, his arms and legs bound, was shoved into a car with his wife and daughter. During a brief stop, they managed to flee. Knowing he could run faster, Ms. Roman-Gat handed him their daughter. Mr. Gat escaped with her, hiding in a ditch for nearly nine hours. His wife was recaptured and held in Gaza for 54 days.

Passover this year will be more profound as freedom has taken on a new meaning, Ms. Roman-Gat told The Associated Press.

“To feel wind upon your face with your eyes closed. To shower. To go to the toilet without permission, and with the total privacy and privilege to take as long as I please with no one urging me, waiting for me at the other side to make sure I’m still theirs,” she said in a text message.

Still, Passover will be overshadowed by deep sorrow and worry for her sister-in-law and the other hostages, she said. The family will mark the holiday with a low-key dinner in a restaurant, without celebration.

As hard as it is in times of pain, Jews have always sought to observe holidays during persecution, such as in concentration camps during the Holocaust, said Rabbi Martin Lockshin, professor emeritus at Canada’s York University, who lives in Jerusalem.

“They couldn’t celebrate freedom but they could celebrate the hope of freedom,” he said.

The crisis affects more than the hostage families. The war, in which 260 soldiers have been killed, casts a shadow over a normally joyous holiday. The government has also scaled back festivities for Independence Day in May in light of the mood and fearing public protests.

Likewise, the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, capped by the three-day Eid al-Fitr feast, was a sad, low-key affair for Palestinians. Over 80% of Gaza’s 2.3 million people have been displaced by the fighting, and Hamas health officials say nearly 34,000 people have been killed in the Israeli offensive.

The scenes of suffering, devastation, and hunger in Gaza have received little attention in Israel, where much of the public and national media remain heavily focused on the aftermath of the Oct. 7 attack and ongoing war.

After several months of fits and starts, negotiations on a deal to release the remaining hostages appears at a standstill – making it unlikely they will be home for Passover.

The hostages’ pain has reverberated around the world, with some in the Jewish diaspora asking rabbis for prayers specifically for the hostages and Israel to be said at this year’s Seder. Others have created a new Haggadah, the book read during the Seder, to reflect the current reality.

Noam Zion, the author of the new Haggadah, has donated 6,000 copies to families impacted by the war.

“The Seder is supposed to help us to relive past slavery and liberation from Egypt and to learn its lessons, but in 2024 it must also ask contemporary questions about the confusing and traumatic present and most important, generate hope for the future,” said Mr. Zion, emeritus member of the faculty of Jewish studies at the Hartman Institute in Jerusalem.

The revised Haggadah includes excerpts from hostage families urging people not to hate despite their pain. It offers a guide for navigating the mixed feelings during the holiday, while posing existential questions about the Jews and the state of Israel.

Some families say it’s too painful to celebrate at all.

The girlfriend of Nirit Lavie Alon’s son was abducted from the Nova music festival. Two months later the family was informed by Israel’s military that Inbar Haiman, a graffiti artist, was dead, her body still in Gaza.

“It’s impossible to celebrate a freedom holiday,” said Ms. Alon. Instead of being with family this year, she’s going to spend a few days in the desert. There will be no closure until all of the hostages are back, including the remains of those who were killed, she said.

Ahead of Passover, some families are still holding out hope their relatives will be freed in time.

Shlomi Berger’s 19-year-old daughter, Agam, was abducted two days after the start of her army service along the border with Gaza. 

Videos of her with an apparent injury emerged shortly after the Hamas attack, one showing an armed man pushing her into a truck, another showing her inside the vehicle with other hostages. The only proof of life he’s had since was a call from a released hostage, wishing him happy birthday from Agam, who she’d been with in the tunnels, he said.

Still, he refuses to give up hope.

“The Passover story says we come from slaves to free people, so this is a parallel story,” Mr. Berger said. “This is the only thing I believe that will happen. That Agam will get out from darkness to light. She and all of the other hostages.”

This story was reported by The Associated Press. 

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.
Real news can be honest, hopeful, credible, constructive.
What is the Monitor difference? Tackling the tough headlines – with humanity. Listening to sources – with respect. Seeing the story that others are missing by reporting what so often gets overlooked: the values that connect us. That’s Monitor reporting – news that changes how you see the world.

Dear Reader,

About a year ago, I happened upon this statement about the Monitor in the Harvard Business Review – under the charming heading of “do things that don’t interest you”:

“Many things that end up” being meaningful, writes social scientist Joseph Grenny, “have come from conference workshops, articles, or online videos that began as a chore and ended with an insight. My work in Kenya, for example, was heavily influenced by a Christian Science Monitor article I had forced myself to read 10 years earlier. Sometimes, we call things ‘boring’ simply because they lie outside the box we are currently in.”

If you were to come up with a punchline to a joke about the Monitor, that would probably be it. We’re seen as being global, fair, insightful, and perhaps a bit too earnest. We’re the bran muffin of journalism.

But you know what? We change lives. And I’m going to argue that we change lives precisely because we force open that too-small box that most human beings think they live in.

The Monitor is a peculiar little publication that’s hard for the world to figure out. We’re run by a church, but we’re not only for church members and we’re not about converting people. We’re known as being fair even as the world becomes as polarized as at any time since the newspaper’s founding in 1908.

We have a mission beyond circulation, we want to bridge divides. We’re about kicking down the door of thought everywhere and saying, “You are bigger and more capable than you realize. And we can prove it.”

If you’re looking for bran muffin journalism, you can subscribe to the Monitor for $15. You’ll get the Monitor Weekly magazine, the Monitor Daily email, and unlimited access to CSMonitor.com.

QR Code to How Israelis observe Passover’s promise of freedom – while family are held captive
Read this article in
https://www.csmonitor.com/World/Middle-East/2024/0422/Passover-Israel-hostages-Gaza
QR Code to Subscription page
Start your subscription today
https://www.csmonitor.com/subscribe