October newsletter is dedicated to marking two years since the war began—and perhaps, its end? (Though, as you’ll see below, I’m not sure “end” is the right word.)
These are my own thoughts and impressions, personal yet shared by many Israelis. At the end of this article, I’ve included a short video I strongly recommend watching. It captures, better than words can, much of what we’ve gone through in these past two years. The sketch is from Eretz Nehederet, Israel’s version of Saturday Night Live. It’s sharp, uncomfortable, and painfully funny—just as satire should be. (Translation and subtitles are mine).
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1. The Return of the Hostages and President Trump’s Role
In Israel’s center-left camp—which I identify with—many believe that without President Trump’s personal involvement, we would never have seen the hostages, living or dead, returned home. His commitment made the difference.
The scenes of joy were moving and unforgettable. I could barely watch them—too many emotions at once: joy, grief, anger, and exhaustion.
I am not a Trump supporter. I hoped for someone else to be elected. But recently, it became painfully clear that Israel had no real strategy or endgame. Our Prime Minister seemed politically comfortable with the war continuing indefinitely—his survival dependent on its perpetuation.
Israel owes President Trump a great debt for ending the war and bringing our people home. Without him, we might still be trapped in it, without direction or plan.
So, thank you, Mr. President. Now, please—press both sides toward peace, like a responsible parent guiding two stubborn children. Because we, Israelis and Palestinians alike, are acting like children.
2. Has the War Really Ended?
We live in the Middle East, where nothing is simple. So the answer, as usual, is yes and no.
This round of fighting will only truly end when all the bodies of the fallen hostages are returned. As of this writing, 13 bodies are still held in Gaza. Hamas has not upheld the terms it signed. According to reports, the locations of 5–8 of those bodies are unknown. But why haven’t the others been returned?
From what I know of Hamas, it will never return everyone. It will always keep a few—mostly soldiers—as bargaining chips.
I do not believe Hamas will disarm. I do not believe the Palestinian leadership wants—or is capable of—signing a peace agreement that truly ends all claims and takes responsibility for their own future, rather than blaming others.
Gaza has been a problem since 1921, and, I believe, will remain one. The October 7 war is not the end of the conflict—it’s just another chapter in the long national and religious struggle between Israelis and Palestinians.
For years, I believed it was a national conflict over land between two peoples. But the past two years have changed my view. Religion plays a deeper role—it’s a way of thinking, a cultural lens. For many in the Arab and Muslim world, accepting Israel’s existence is still impossible.
Israel has become the Arab world’s punching bag, a convenient distraction from the failures of their own regimes. There is also a deeper historical longing—an emotional pull toward the days when the Islamic world led in culture, science, and power.
In Islamic thought, any land once under Muslim rule must one day return to Muslim hands.
In contrast, Judaism has a different survival code: we remember the past—but keep moving forward. We build, adapt, and grow.
Since the Oslo Accords of 1993, Israel has moved forward while the Palestinians, sadly, have moved backward.
As of the time I am writing this blog, the ceasefire is not being fully maintained and appears fragile. The chances of moving to the second phase of disarming Hamas and beginning the reconstruction of the Gaza Strip appear very small. The vast majority of Israelis do not believe in the two-state solution and have no solution for what to do with Gaza. A friend yesterday put it well, “Most Israelis believe that the two-state solution is suicide.” I am in the minority who still believe in the two-state solution, because the Gazans are not going anywhere and we are not going anywhere. Both peoples are stuck in an endless cycle of violence, destruction and death.
If you want to better understand this dynamic, I highly recommend Micha Goodman’s book Catch-67—an extraordinary analysis of both sides’ core arguments, and an attempt to imagine a way out of this stalemate of mutual blame and paralysis.
3. Hadar Goldin and the Power of a Sister’s Voice
Every Saturday, families gather at Tel Aviv’s Hostage Square. On October 18, 2025, after twenty hostages had been returned alive, thousands came together again — crying, cheering, and refusing to give up.
One of the speakers was Ayelet Goldin, the sister of Lt. Hadar Goldin, who was kidnapped and killed in Gaza in 2014 after a ceasefire was declared. Hamas has held his body ever since.
Here’s what she said that night:
“This is the final battle — the least glamorous one.
There will be no hugs this time, only bowed heads and respect.
Time is running out. Since the 20 came home, the media says we don’t know where the others are. That’s a lie. Hamas knows everything.
My brother has been their symbol for eleven years. You promised everyone. We promised ourselves.
Don’t fall asleep. Don’t let them say ‘We did all we could.’
Hadar — my brother, my hero — I’m with you. The people of Israel are with you.
We promised to bring you home, and we will.”
Her words stayed with me. That’s why I still wear my yellow pin — a small reminder that our commitment to the hostages isn’t over.
As one sticker in his memory reads:
“In life, there are two paths — to focus on yourself, or to choose to do great things.”
4. Golda and Bibi — A Conversation About Responsibility
The Eretz Nehederet sketch I mentioned earlier imagines a surreal meeting between Golda Meir and Benjamin Netanyahu — a conversation about responsibility, legacy, and moral courage.
As of this writing, Netanyahu has dismissed (or accepted the resignations of) nearly every senior official responsible for October 7: the Chief of Staff, the head of Southern Command, the Intelligence chief, the Shin Bet director, the Defense Minister, and the head of the National Security Council.
Everyone — except himself.
At Israel’s officer training school, cadets are taught a simple principle: Responsibility you take, and do not receive.
Somewhere along the way, Netanyahu seems to have forgotten that. Instead of establishing an independent state commission of inquiry, which could help us learn from our mistakes, he’s fought to block it.
For me, that refusal is the essence of this war: a failure of responsibility.
There are many nuances in the sketch, which I hope you understand. I will list a few of them:
How many houses do you have? A hint that Netanyahu is perceived as a hedonist and corrupt.
Bibi says “I too, shoes are not allowed in the house,” implying that many believe that the one who runs the country and Bibi is his wife, Sara. (It’s okay that his wife runs him, my wife runs me too. It’s not okay that she runs the country).
Golda’s shoes were shoes that she wore when she was the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Golda’s shoes were military shoes, with an emphasized lack of fashion.
Regarding the saying “the left forgot about being Jewish,” she said in 1997, to attract right-wing voters and bash the left.
“There was nothing, because there is nothing,” refers to several legal processes in the district court regarding corruption offenses. There was nothing, why are you trying to avoid the trial?
“Sour”, a description of someone who does not support Bibi’s countries or herself. Instead of addressing the criticism, Netanyahu chooses to humiliate the other political side.
5. A Personal Note
The past two years — from October 2023 to October 2025 — have been the hardest of my life.
Unemployment, uncertainty, and the endless news cycle have left their mark. The trauma of war and captivity will stay with us for decades.
For my parents’ generation, the Yom Kippur War was the defining trauma.
For mine, it’s October 7.
I still call myself a Zionist — because to me, Zionism means hope, resilience, and the belief that we can rebuild.
The past two years have been a painful lesson in humility and perseverance — and in the quiet courage of getting back up.
That’s our mission as a generation: to rise again.
Across Israel today, you’ll see a new sticker everywhere:
“We will bring them home. We will rise.”
And that, I think, captures what Israel truly is — a nation that refuses to give up.
Let’s Keep Talking
If you’d like to talk more about the video, this article, or about Israel in general — I’d love that. Always. And for free.
And if you have friends planning a trip to Israel, please connect me..
I’d be honored to show them this country — with all its heartbreak, beauty, and spirit.
See you soon,
Hilik