After 844 days, Israel closes a wound – without forgetting it
It has been a long time coming. But it is finally here.
The body of the last Israeli hostage from October 7 – Ran Gvili, Police Master Sgt., has returned home. Returned to Israel. Returned to his family. Returned for a burial worthy of a hero.
What a relief – at last. Relief for Ran Gvili’s parents and siblings. Relief for a nation that has been holding its breath for 844 days. And, for me, something quieter but deeply personal: relief that allows me, finally, to remove my hostage pin.
I never wore it lightly.
A few months after the October 7 massacre – what I called then, and still call, a mini-Holocaust – I had the privilege of teaching a master’s-level class in innovation and entrepreneurship at College of Management Academic Studies in Rishon LeZion, Israel’s first non-profit institution of higher education.
The country was still raw. Campuses were quieter than usual. Faces older than their years.
After the two-hour session, I stayed behind to speak with students. Many were IDF reservists. Some were active-duty. All were carrying something heavier than coursework.
One woman approached me. Calm. Composed. She handed me a yellow hostage pin.
“My daughter made this,” she said, almost casually. “It is my pleasure to give it to you. And thank you – for your support, and for your love for Israel.”
I was moved beyond words. This was a student from a college that had lost 20 students to the massacre. Others had lost siblings, parents, friends. And yet she stood there, offering gratitude.
That pin stayed with me. On my jacket. In my thoughts. As a reminder that this was not abstract. It was personal – for all of us.
Today, I can finally take it off.
At exactly 5:30 p.m., the iconic countdown clock at Hostages Square stopped. After 844 days. More than 20,250 hours. Over 1.2 million minutes. More than 72 million seconds.
Time had been counting even when life felt frozen. For the first time since 2014, Israel woke up with no hostages held in Gaza.
Let that sink in.
Ran Gvili’s body was the first taken – and the last to return. He went in first. He came out last. And now, he is home.
There is something unbearably sad about that symmetry. And something quietly redemptive too.
I listened carefully to the words of Ran’s mother. “Our pride,” she said, “is much, much stronger than our pain.” That sentence captures something essential about Israel.
Pain here is never denied. But neither is pride. The two coexist – sometimes uneasily – but always honestly.
Ran Gvili was killed defending Kibbutz Alumim. Even with a broken shoulder, he put on his police uniform and ran toward danger. That is not mythology. That is character.
And character, ultimately, is what this long saga tested most.
Much has been written, and will still be written, about October 7 as a failure of leadership, intelligence, preparedness. Those debates are legitimate and necessary.
But there is another truth that must also be stated clearly.
Israel’s leadership made a promise: every hostage would come home – alive or not.
And that promise has now been kept.
Light over Ben Gurion: the control tower glows with a simple truth Israel waited 844 days to say – “Everyone is Home.” (Image: YouTube screenshot)
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu called Ran Gvili’s return “an extraordinary achievement.” He removed his hostage pin in the Knesset, saying simply: “We promised. And we delivered.”
Opposition leaders did the same. President Herzog did the same. Across the Israel, people paused – some in tears, some in silence – to mark a moment that was both among the happiest and saddest in Israel’s recent history.
Credit is also due beyond Israel’s borders.
United States President Donald Trump played a decisive role in the negotiations that led to the release of all remaining hostages – first the living, and now, finally, the last of the fallen. Diplomacy is rarely clean. But outcomes matter. And this outcome matters profoundly.
For the families, closure is not healing – but it is the beginning of it.
Some will say: Hamas is not destroyed. Others will say: Gaza’s future remains unresolved. Both are true. But there were two core war aims after October 7. One was to dismantle Hamas. That work is unfinished. The other was to bring every hostage home.
That goal – mercifully, painfully, finally – has been achieved.
And without that, Israel could not truly begin to heal. National trust could not be rebuilt. The social contract could not be repaired.
A country that leaves even one of its people behind is a country that fractures internally.
This is why the return of Ran Gvili matters so deeply. It is not only about him – though it is, first and foremost, about him. It is about a principle older than any government: Israel does not abandon her own.
Taking off the hostage pin does not mean forgetting October 7. It does not mean moving on lightly. It does not mean closure without accountability. It means something more subtle – and more Israeli. It means acknowledging that a chapter, however painful, has reached its final line.
Now the work of resilience and renewal truly begins.
Resilience, not as a slogan, but as lived reality: families rebuilding trust, soldiers returning to civilian life, communities stitching themselves back together.
Renewal, not by erasing memory, but by carrying it forward – wiser, more sober, more determined.
And yes, this too is part of innovating the future of Israel: a nation that learns, adapts, mourns honestly, and still insists on life.
My last thought
Yours truly in Dizengoff Square in Tel Aviv
I think again of that student. Of her daughter. Of the pin made by a child who had already learned more about grief than any child should.
That pin was a promise passed from hand to hand.
Today, the promise has been honored. The clock has stopped. Ran Gvili is home. And Israel, scarred but standing, can finally exhale.
May his memory be a blessing. May his family know no more sorrow. And may Israel never again need a clock to count such days.
Now, quietly, respectfully, I remove my pin.