Saving Carmel

The murder of the six hostages—Almog, Ori, Eden, Alex, Hersh and Carmel—sent the citizens of Israel out into the streets. Perhaps it was that we finally realized that had the government behaved differently, they could have been home a long time ago. Perhaps it was our civil guilt. We didn’t shout loud enough, didn’t demand, didn’t make our desire to see them released felt strongly enough. Either way, it was the largest demonstration since the war began.

“Without a doubt, one of the largest,” corrects Maya Roman, co-founder of Politically Corret, a former colleague and boss, now a leading activist in the fight for the return of the hostages. “There was another one, a really big one, before the first deal.”

We met on Begin Street on Sunday evening. For the past 24 hours we’d been texting about the rumors going around. A list with the names of the six hostages had been leaked to the public. At that time, Roman was sitting with the Gat family in the Hostage Square, waiting. It was only in the early morning that the news arrived: the rumors were true. The epitome of cruelty.

Carmel Gat is Yarden’s sister-in-law and Maya Roman’s cousin. Distant cousins, but the relationship became very close since Yarden was also kidnapped to the Gaza Strip and released after 54 days, in the first and only deal Israel managed to secure with Hamas. This deal came after an intense struggle by the families of the hostages, including the Roman-Gat family. When Yarden was released, the fight shifted to another family member, Carmel, who would have been released in that deal if it hadn’t fallen through.

“It feels like a cliché even before I say it,” says Roman. “But it’s the truth. Carmel was almost here. In the first deal, she was one day away from coming home. In May, if they had signed Netanyahu’s deal, she would have been here. On July 2, if they had signed, she would have been here. A week ago, we returned from the U.S. Blinken met with Netanyahu and came back optimistic. And that’s how it feels—we were almost there. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.”

At the large demonstration on Sunday, many people came to offer hugs and support, including people Maya had never met but who knew her from the struggle or from TV. We wandered among the makeshift studios set up by news channels and met the Roman and Gat families.

“Throughout this period, I felt like I knew Carmel,” Roman shares. “Her family became my family; I’ve heard so much about her and seen photos. I constantly imagined how we would meet and become friends. But mainly, I felt I knew her because we went through similar experiences before October 7. We’re the same age, we both separated from our partners and returned to our parents, neither of us is married, and we don’t have kids. And I really feel that in some ways she paid the price for that. In the end, she was last on the list for the first deal—because she’s not a mother, not a child, not a grandmother. She doesn’t fit into any of those categories.”

In the first hostage deal, Hamas committed to releasing the elderly, children and mothers. After all of these were released, and if the deal continued, more people would be released, starting with women who were kidnapped but don’t fall into any of the above categories, and ending with elderly men. After six tense days of waiting, the Roman family watched as Yarden boarded a Red Cross vehicle on her way home. On the seventh day, the deal fell apart. Carmel remained in Gaza.

"I have a terrible feeling that we failed big-time. We did everything we could do—and we failed. In the matter of the hostages, there’s a very clear measure of success. Either the people you’re fighting for return alive, or they don’t."

Like the families of other hostages, Maya fought every way she could over the past 11 months, in various places around the world. She spoke with powerful politicians, trying to persuade them to help secure a deal. To pressure Netanyahu, to pressure Sinwar. She gave interviews to numerous media outlets, bringing Carmel’s story, our story, to every corner of the globe.

"If you had told me 11 months ago that I would do even a fraction of the things I’ve done since October 7, I would have said you fantasizing," says Roman. "Suddenly you find yourself in a room with the chancellor of Germany, with American senators, or with the largest media outlets in the world. It creates an illusion of power. But in the face of real power, you realize that as a citizen, you can’t really change anything if your government won’t sign a deal—or signs one and brings home a hundred hostages all at once."

But you definitely influenced the first deal

"True, the families were able to create some power together, and thank goodness for that. But as time goes by, that power disappears. In the last round in the U.S., we really saw this. People meet with you, express sympathy, but when you ask them to do something that isn’t in their political interest—that’s where your power ends. Unfortunately, we’ve had to learn to be very sophisticated political players and understand which messages resonate with whom and with their interests. But getting someone to do something that isn’t in their political interest is hard, if not impossible, and that applies to both the right and the left. In Israel and around the world."

In the end, it’s Bibi signing or not signing.

"And he has no political interest in bringing them back. It’s that simple. That’s why I think that if millions of people took to the streets today, it would have an impact. If Netanyahu understood he was losing the elections over this, it would make a difference."

He doesn’t feel like that now?

"Right now, he sees the protesters as the same leftists who didn’t want him and didn’t vote for him. So why should he care? And this is true for all the members of the coalition. Each one could have insisted on a hostage deal. They could have toppled the government and gone out and done what needed to be done."

We look around. It’s crowded. Hundreds of thousands of people. Maya, who’s used to the protests, leads me off the beaten path directly to the center of the road, to a bonfire lit by activists. We could smell the approaching stench, hear the pounding of the drums, echoing like a heartbeat.

"The experience around Yarden’s return and that of Carmel’s death are exactly the opposite and yet so similar”, says Roman. “And it’s tearing me apart."

The evening before, Maya sat in the Hostages Square with other family members. Rumors were already circulating, including a leaked list of names. "Sitting and waiting for hours to hear if it really was Carmel reminded me of the day we waited to hear that Yarden was coming," says Roman. "That time I sat with my family; this time, it’s Carmel’s. In both cases, you find yourself in a life-and-death situation while you drink Cola Zero and play board games. Passing the time. Waiting."

On Saturday night, the families knew for certain that six bodies had been recovered from the tunnels in Gaza. "Other than the rumors about Carmel, we had no idea who they were," Roman explains. "You sit with people and you have this feeling… you don’t want it to be Carmel—but if it’s not her, it’s someone else. It breaks your heart. It’s a piercing feeling that the families feel so deeply. It can be any one of us."

I’ve known Maya for years. The woman who brought me to Politically Corret always managed to balance endless optimism with a stubborn pragmatism that was able to connect lofty ideals to the reality of everyday life. That day, I saw a different Maya. Exhausted, despairing.

"Every time, they create a new 'most important' strategic asset for us and make us forget a very simple truth—in our country, the most important strategic asset is human life. We are fighting for human life; we respect human life. And if that’s who we claim to be, then we need to stand behind it."

 Maya is talking about the latest spin, the "Philadelphia Road," which has recently become the main reason for Netanyahu’s opposition to a deal. The day after the huge demonstration where we met, Netanyahu held a press conference and showed the Philadelphia Road on a map, explaining its importance.

"I think every person in this country ultimately wants to live in security and understands that the basic role of the state is to provide security for its citizens so that they can live their lives," says Roman. "Most people in the country understand how colossal a failure this was—that the state allowed so many people to be kidnapped. If they abandon them now, they are essentially abandoning us."

And yet, it’s hard to get people out to protest.

"I think there’s a false impression that the responsible thing to do is tell the families, 'To ensure that October 7 doesn’t happen again, we must not give up strategic assets, even at the cost of the lives of the hostages.' They say, 'This is the reality. It’s one or the other,' as if it’s inevitable, as if we have no power over Hamas. As if the government and I are the same; I have no power, neither does Netanyahu, and neither does the government of Israel."

That’s a little bit anti-Zionist

"It’s totally anti-Zionist! Ater all, the whole idea of the state is that we can create our own reality and build a society that upholds the values of Judaism and of human life. And it’s absurd that our leader tells us, 'There’s nothing to be done.' And a lot of people accept that. Carmel’s story is a perfect example of this: unlike other cases where the IDF got to the hostages after they had already been dead for some time, here they were alive a day before the IDF reached them! They could have been saved. They survived until then! To claim that nothing could be done is such an obvious lie that it’s hard to believe anyone can stand behind it. Seventeen deals could have been signed by now. This deal could have been signed in so many ways—ways he dictated! And we all went along with it. Therefore, this lie that nothing could have been done is so easy to debunk. You can spew words from here to kingdom come, but the reality is disheartening. It’s a place where you feel totally helpless."

Maya’s despair is built on layers of disappointment. Over the past few months, she saw deals crafted, almost to the point of signature—only to be shelved again. One of those times occurred just before the assassination of Ismail Haniyeh in Tehran on July 31. The deal, dubbed "Netanyahu’s Deal," hinting at its chances of success, was nearly signed.

On the morning of the assassination, we were texting at the writers' desk, trying to understand how we should feel. Maya pointed out the hidden aspect of the story: the deal, which was almost signed, would be shelved. The hard work leading up to it would go to waste. And in fact, we understood that the negotiations for a hostage deal were only a distraction.

"Before Haniyeh’s assassination, the deal was right here. Hamas was ready to agree," says Roman. "Instead of finalizing that deal, which would have brought Carmel home alive, they chose to assassinate Haniyeh. A terrible person, a murderer, but one who had been influenced by Qatari pressure. Not that I’m against these assassinations—but the timing, which left us to negotiate only with Sinwar, meant choosing assassination over saving lives. And at any given moment throughout the war, these are the choices being made."

"Hamas is strengthened by thinking that Israeli society is crumbling. They know that our strength lies in our mutual responsibility and cooperation. They also know that this is our weak spot. I think if we protested together, showing that we’re united around the desire to bring our people back, it would create the opposite of division. Ultimately, what really strengthens Hamas and weakens us is the portrayal of the hostage families as causing harm to Israel. By the way, the families help strengthen Israel’s ties with other countries around the world. These protests show foreign governments that the people are not the government. That we’re not all Smotrich and Ben- Gvir."

They also keep telling us that the protests are harming the hostages.

"Yes, you’re caught in that loop all the time. The protests supposedly reinforce Hamas. I understand why people think that, but I don’t buy it."

Why not?

"One of the most significant things I've experienced on this journey with the hostages’ families is the feeling that here we are, a random group of people with no shared ideology, who all got screwed in the same way, joining hands and working together for a better reality," Maya explains. "There’s a very deep and strong connection among many of the families, and that’s a rare thing today. And it’s happening solely because people are committed to life and death matter."

"From the very first moment, I knew our strength lay in telling the personal stories of our people. To talk about Yarden, talk about Carmel, create specific connections to these characters. And now I don’t know how to continue. I don’t know how to wake up in the morning. Yarden, thank God, is here, and Carmel… she’s also here… and the feeling of failure is very, very hard to take. I hope to find some renewed spirit. It’s exciting to see everyone coming out today, but it’s also infuriating—where were you up until ow?"

On the light rail, on the way here, a lot of people were muttering, "We should have come earlier."

"I understand why people came once a month, or even just once. It’s almost impossible to sustain a struggle like this for so long. And really, every time I’m abroad, people tell me, ‘We’re watching you and we can’t understand how you manage to get so many people out into the streets week after week.’ It’s an amazing political achievement. I know that Yarden came back to us because the government felt pressure. Because the government understood that the country wouldn’t return to normal if they didn’t bring them back."

So what needs to happen to get them to make another deal?

"We need a critical mass of people. People have to come week after week. I don’t have the privilege of giving up on this, and neither does anyone else in the country. There are still so many people who can be saved. If Romy comes back, Itzik, Matan, Omer… everyone who’s still there. It’s a small victory, and the families deserve to experience that. We all deserve it—truly, as a society—to feel that we haven’t given up on them. That we’ve managed to bring back at least a small part of them. Maybe it was too late for Carmel, but we got ourselves together in time for Matan… I know the other families would stand with us, no matter what, and we will stand with them, no matter what. And yes, it will always feel unfair, painful and unjust. Because it didn’t have to be this way."

Maybe it will really be different for the others.

"Americans whom I met during these months sent me emails today saying, 'May her memory be a blessing.' Which, in this case, is so literal. It’s exactly that. I hope her memory will lead to other families getting their loved ones back. That something good will come out of this unspeakable tragedy."

Do you believe that will happen?

"Only if everyone manages not to lose hope for long enough. Along the way, people have told me how close they feel to Carmel. It feels a bit like family… we’re all a bit like family. I’ve become part of the Gat family, and I know there are many people in the country who feel this way, and maybe from this small place—of feeling a commitment of family—we can bring about change.