Two months ago, Moti Almoz was listening to a radio show when he heard an academic suggest that controlling Gaza's education system could foster a peace-loving society in the strip. Infuriated, Almoz called the station to complain and was invited to share his views on air. His subsequent comments sparked a fierce debate on social media, with opinions sharply divided over the retired general's stance on maintaining an Israeli presence in the Gaza Strip.

"I'd been up since 5 a.m. dealing with irrigation issues and pesticide spraying in the orchards," Almoz recalls. "Then I hear this professor talking about peace agreements, and it set me off. When they asked if we needed to claim territory, I said, 'At this point, we should be harvesting wheat in those border areas.' That really stirred things up."

Q: You're suggesting a civilian presence in the strip. Does this include establishing settlements?

"Settlements are a controversial issue, and we don't need more controversy right now. But agriculture is a good solution that makes a statement. In university, I wrote a paper on sheep herding during the British Mandate period. Those herds served security purposes. And this wasn't in disputed territories, but in central Israel. These are the principles of early settlement, and we need to return to them now. Israel's security doctrine has been based on various strategies, like shifting conflicts to enemy territory and quick, precise wars. It's time for an update."

Almoz argues for a buffer zone of about 2.5 to 6 miles west of the fence under Israeli control. "This depth is critical for protecting our communities. It's been clear since day one that this is necessary. We need to send a clear message: anyone planning future attacks will lose territory. That's what victory looks like, not images of surrendering enemies."

Q: This implies a long-term military presence.

"The children starting school this week will serve in Gaza. That's the reality of our region," Almoz states. He dismisses the idea of quick peace solutions, arguing that Israel must prioritize security over peace negotiations in the short term.

Now 57, Almoz lives in a northern Israeli village with his wife Tali and their five children. After 37 years of service, including roles as head of the Civil Administration in the West Bank, IDF Spokesperson, and head of the Personnel Directorate, he retired as a major general. The day after hanging up his uniform, he was back in work clothes, refurbishing an old tractor to return to farming.

Q: The challenge is fighting in a densely populated civilian area.

"We're preoccupied with terms like 'innocents' and 'uninvolved civilians.' But I ask: What if we hadn't responded until a day after the attack? We saw what happened in the border communities. It wasn't just the armed groups; civilians came to loot, assault, and kill. Young people bragged about killing with their bare hands, even elderly people joined in. There are two million Palestinians in Gaza. If we hadn't stopped them, they would have reached more communities, killing and looting. This calls into question the concept of 'uninvolved civilians.'"

Almoz's perspective, shaped by his extensive military career and current life as a farmer, offers a stark view of the region's future. He acknowledges that his views may be controversial, particularly his skepticism towards peace negotiations. "To anyone speaking about peace with Gaza, I say: consider the risk to your daughter," he warns.

Almoz reflects on the enduring nature of the conflict and the tough choices Israel faces. "This is the area we live in, we'll live by the sword forever," he says, adding with a note of grim determination, "But as they say, it's better to live by the sword than to live in illusions."

The post 'Peace with Gaza? Remember they would assault your daughter' appeared first on www.israelhayom.com.

Michal Herzog thought she knew what she was getting into before she moved into the presidential residence. After all, she and her husband, Isaac Herzog, the current president, married when his father, Chaim Herzog, was the sixth president of the State of Israel. She and Isaac Herzog held the brit milah for two of their three sons at the presidential residence. But nothing they had experienced prepared them for the dramatic events of the past three years: a third and particularly severe wave of coronavirus, a societal rift among the worst seen here, a terrorist attack unprecedented since the establishment of the state, and a long and difficult war that broke out in that attack's wake. This week, the first direct confrontation with Iran was added to the list, "and we have not even reached the middle of our term," Michal Herzog, who does not give many interviews, told Israel Hayom this week.

Isaac Herzog was elected president when Benjamin Netanyahu's government of the time was on the verge of dissolution and took office when Naftali Bennett took over. "The [anti-reform] protests had yet to begin, but we had already gone through three rounds of elections and it was clear that we needed action to unify society, we just didn't know to what extent."

A little more than a year after she and her husband moved into the presidential residence, Netanyahu was re-elected, and the protest was not long in coming. "Even before that, we had launched the "Changing a Word" (Let's Talk) program, which has a double meaning – exchanging words between different groups, and replacing difficult words with words of dialogue," she says. "During the time of the protests, we opened the residence up to everyone. There were a lot of dialogue circles, anger and hugs, and a lot of tears. When you sit and talk, you hear a different story than one you expected to hear."

Then came October 7, which caught the presidential couple at their private home in Tel Aviv's Tzahala neighborhood. "At 6:25 a.m. on the day of October 7, we [heard sirens and] said to each other: What were they upset about? Did we assassinate someone overnight?" About an hour later, they received a message from Naor Yahya, the president's spokesman, with a picture of Hamas terrorists driving around in a pick-up truck in Sderot. "I said to myself: No way is this real, but then we began to understand what kind of situation we were in – as far as it was possible to understand."

Throughout that morning, the president waited to hear from two people who used to contact him whenever rockets were fired at the western Negev: Sha'ar Hanegev Regional Council head Ofir Libstein and Sderot Mayor Alon Davidi. "Our feeling was that if we didn't hear from them, then things were obviously serious. Every few minutes, Bougie [Isaac Herzog's nickname] would say to me, "' Nothing yet from Ofir;' we got more and more worried." Ofir was murdered in Kfar Aza when he joined the community response team in his kibbutz. The President eulogized him at a funeral held on October 18 in Even Yehuda. A day later, the body of his 19-year-old son Nitzan was identified, and he was buried next to his father

With the leadership in shock and chaos, the president and his wife, like most Israelis, were updated on events through the media. "The television broadcasts were horrifying," says Michal recounting the moments that will not be forgotten. "People called the studios and whispered, 'Come and save us,' 'My father has been kidnapped.' It was terrible. Good friends of mine, who grew up in Kfar Aza sent me messages that were going around kibbutz WhatsApp groups. We began to realize the magnitude of the horror, and the numbers kept increasing. On Saturday night the figures were still in the region of 400 murdered, on Sunday they went up more and more."

The horror also approached the close circle of the staff of the presidential residence. The daughter of the deputy head of security sent her mother a live location from her escape route from the Nova Festival until she safely reached Moshav Patish. At the same time, the youngest son of the president and his wife received an emergency call-up for reserve duty and joined his comrades in an elite unit heading south.

Two days later, with the Gaza border region still under missile fire, the president and his wife went on a tour of the area. They were the first to tour Kibbutz Beeri, with the smell of smoke still in the air. When they entered Sderot they had to make a quick run to a bomb shelter in Ashkelon where they were caught in a particularly intense rocket attack. They visited all the command and control centers in the area and sang "Am Yisrael Hai" (The People of Israel live) until Michal burst into tears.

"We went out to touch people's hearts and discovered the power of the people," says Michal Herzog, describing her visit to the south. "We went to the Soroka Medical Center, met wounded people and their families. The Nahari family, whose son Roy was a paratrooper officer and was mortally wounded, asked us to come in and be with them when they said goodbye to him. We were there with Ro'i's parents and three brothers. His twin, also a paratroop officer, lay on top of him and refused to say goodbye to him. The mother exchanged glances with me, she clearly understood the situation very well.

"We had the privilege to be with them in that moment," the president's wife says through her tears. "A few weeks ago they came here … they said the sister was enlisting now. We keep in touch with a lot of families; it's inspiring. Wonderful people who take their pain and harness it to get things done, to commemorate the fallen, for social enterprise.

Improved treatment for PTSD

Michal Herzog (62), née Afek, grew up in Tel Aviv and Ramat Hasharon. She met her husband during their military service in the Intelligence Corps, and together they built their home in the Tzahala neighborhood of Tel Aviv. She graduated from law school and began working in the law firm of Uri Slonim. Later she moved into philanthropy, managed charitable foundation projects, and served as chairwoman and board of directors of various institutions. Now she has put all her independent activities aside for the time being and devotes herself to the work of the president's residence. "It was clear to us that we have to do this as a team. I have resigned from all my positions, and this is something that should not be taken lightly. I have always been an independent woman, with my own office and my own business. But it was clear to us that this job required us to pool all our energies."

Q: What was important to you when you came into the position?

"In public life, you have to like people, if you don't like people, then you are in the wrong place. We came with an open heart, willing to talk to everyone. That's our character, certainly the president's. I don't have many positive things to say about what it means to be a politician's wife. It is a very difficult life, a daily fight for survival. But there is one good thing about it: you get to reach everyone, you know everything. As the wife of a president, meet people from a totally different position than one would otherwise. It's completely different, and there is a sense of mission."

In line with this sense of mission, Michal Herzog met in the first week of the president's term with Itzik Saidian, a former soldier suffering from PTSD after suffering serious wounds in the 2014 Gaza conflict, who self-immolated in front of the offices of the Ministry of Defense's Rehabilitation Department to protest the treatment of soldiers who have suffered psychological wounds in battle. The following week – just two months after Operation Guardian of the Walls – she and the president visited the mixed-Jewish-Arab town of Lod, which had experienced severe sectarian violence, and met all sectors of the population. "In his inaugural speech, the president said he was going to touch the most painful points, and that's what we did.

"Throughout our lives, we have acted on the principle that there is no place for stereotypes because they are meaningless. Until you talk to a person, you don't really know who that person is. You can't label someone by whether they have piercings or whether they wear a headscarf, people are more complex than their outward features. It's not that you have to agree, on the contrary. Debate is necessary, Judaism is debated, but a proper debate includes listening to the other side. And if you don't agree, you part with a hug, not with a blow."

Q: How can we change the way we talk to each other when even in the wake of October 7 we have gone back to a divisive discourse?

"October 7 shook us all. We needed an external enemy to unite us. The military didn't deploy people by place of residence or what their political position is. People have changed while on reserve duty, they worked together, and when they come home, the difference hits them. The discourse back on the home front remains stuck where it was, but they are no longer there.

On another topic, she says: "As someone who deals a lot with the field of mental health, I was happy to see that today the subject is handled much better. For example, the army holds group processing sessions for combat soldiers just before they are released from the reserves." The President and I asked to join such a meeting. We met combat soldiers from the Egoz unit – from twenty-something-year-olds who are in their tour of duty as reserves, to forty-fifty year olds. Guys who serve together – one studying design at Shenkar, one an educator at the Eli Yeshiva. … They all talk about the need to work together, and then they return to the home front and are shocked to hear incitement. Our message to them is that they must bring that voice home, not let the discourse return to where it was on the eve of the war."

Since the beginning of the war, the Herzogs have met more than 200 bereaved families, and the president makes sure to send personal letters to all of them. A meeting of the families of the hostages took place at the president's residence, and since then the presidential couple have kept in touch with dozens of them. On average, once a week they visit the wounded people in hospitals, and at the beginning of the war, they met with evacuee communities. They maintain continuous contact with the heads of municipalities in the north and south, in an attempt to help them receive budgets for the rehabilitation of the communities that have been hit by the war and also meet with representatives of the various security agencies.

"We were at the shiva of Yossi Hershkovitz, of blessed memory, principal of the Pelach Lebanim High School, a resident of Gush Etzion, who fell in battle in Gaza," Herzog says. "A very impressive family. They revealed to us his will, a call for unity – both in his written will and in a video he filmed for his students. Two weeks ago there was a demonstration in Jerusalem, and his mother Ruhama took a bus from her workplace and came here. She told the guards at the entrance, 'I'm a bereaved mother, and the president told me that whenever I needed something, I should come, so I came.' I went down to see who it was and found her crying. The orphaned grandchildren were at her house; they could hear the demonstration and the shouting, and she told me, if that's the way things are, Yossi was killed in vain.' When the president became available, he joined us. We told her that Yossi was not killed in vain and that her job was to make her and her son's voices heard. We hear the extremists all the time, but the vast majority of Israelis are in a completely different place. Since then, she has appeared frequently on TV and radio, and her voice has been heard. She has influenced a lot of people."

Until they return

An impressive art installation is currently being erected outside the President's Residence – a photographic commemoration of a selection of works exhibited in the gallery at Kibbutz Beer, established by kibbutz resident Orit Swirsky. Orit was murdered in the terrible massacre, and the gallery she founded and nurtured was set on fire and burned to the ground, after 37 years and more than 400 exhibitions. Michal Herzog, who manages the art on display at the President's Residence, chose to place the installation outside the residence so that passersby would also be exposed to it. She also arranged for funds, including a donation from the visiting German president, for the restoration of the gallery at Beeri.

Q: While there has been support and solidarity, there has also been enormous criticism of Israel around the world and a huge increase in antisemitism. Has this surprised you?

"Absolutely. Our enemies were highly prepared with an effective campaign. The TikTok campaign and campus marches began even before our ground incursion, including the slogan 'From the River to the Sea' We weren't prepared. I deal a lot with sexual abuse, and this issue is particularly painful because it is a consensus issue. No one in the modern world thinks that sexual violence is a legitimate weapon war, yet the silence from women's organizations around the world and human rights organizations is intolerable. In Israel, this is something we are experiencing for the first time. This is something we have heard about in other conflicts – Bosnia, Africa, and unfortunately in the last two years in Ukraine. Suddenly, we too are its victims. The world's total disregard for this during the first two months of the war is shocking.

"This changed with the visit to Israel of Pramila Patten, the UN Secretary General's Special Representative on Sexual Violence in Conflict. She met with women who had returned from captivity in Gaza, saw the pictures, heard from those who were on the front lines identifying and treating such cases, with those who were exposed to the terrible scenes in the Gaza border communities and at the Nova music festival at Re'im. Her visit resulted in a very difficult report. Patten appeared at the UN and showed the systematization of planned sexual violence. This has legal significance. It turns the event into genocide. There is finally an acknowledgment of what happened, with an explicit report that can no longer be ignored. Since then, we have entered into a different debate. Another important landmark was Amit Soussana's testimony in The New York Times. She is a very brave woman; I have no words to describe my esteem for this special woman."

Q: This event is not over yet. As we go into Passover, there are still an unimaginable number of hostages still held captive by Hamas.

"This is a terribly painful event that we never imagined would last so long. The uncertainty is unbearable," replies the president's wife, who adorns the yellow hostage ribbon and wears a hostage dog tag on her neck. "Not a day goes by where we don't meet with or talk to a family of one of the hostages.

"We work with them around the world, we have traveled with them on two different trips, and we use all possible contacts. Until the hostages return, we as a nation will not be able to continue. The impossibility of closing the circle and bringing the missing for burial is also difficult. This issue is also close to my heart because my uncle – the commander of the Ramat David base during the Yom Kippur War, Brigadier General Zorik Lev – is the most senior Israeli whose burial place is unknown. Fifty years of uncertainty. He was supposed to be ninety today."

Q: Your exposure to all kinds of pain of this war is immense. How do you manage to handle this?

"We are exposed to a lot of pain. There are days when I just have no strength left and crawl into bed when the day is over. But our encounters with such wonderful people recharge us. As in the saying, one comes to comfort and leaves comforted. There are broken families who came into this situation already in a bad way and are broken even further. And there are very strong families, and I do not doubt that this is connected to faith. Everywhere there are amazing people. People transcend themselves, and suddenly their powers are revealed.

"Take, for example, Rachel, the mother of Hersh Goldberg-Polin, who was abducted to Gaza from the shelter where Aner Shapira threw back grenades at Hamas terrorists before eventually being killed. His abduction was documented in one of the first videos released from October 7 which showed his arm amputated.  Rachel is an amazing woman, who was always very shy but today interviews all over the world. She was speaking at the United Nations, and she went up to Elon Musk and showed him the video of her son's abduction. Biden mentions her in almost every speech on the hostages (after my interview with Michal Herzog, Rachel Goldberg-Polin was included in Time Magazine's list of the 100 most influential people in the world).  Things like that give us strength.

"We are in a very difficult time, but one loaded with meaning. One comes to understand the significance of this place – it is not about us, Isaac and Michal, but about the institution of the presidency. Sadly, we have discovered all these wonderful people in times of crisis, but we really do have a wonderful, inspiring people. I was at the reopening of the command center at Nahal Oz, the girls there are lionesses, and it's incredibly impressive. It is inspiring."

Last week, Binyamin Ahimeir, a high school student who volunteered as a shepherd on Fridays, was brutally murdered. The motivation to kill us is at its peak on all fronts.
"The murder of a 14-year-old boy is inconceivable; we cannot accept terrorism... I hope that those who committed this terrible act will be caught and brought to justice as soon as possible. I'm sure the security forces won't stop until they find them. They know how to do their jobs, and they should be allowed to operate without interference."

Ahead of the national holidays

The presidential couple celebrated the Passover Seder with lone soldiers. The interview took place before the holiday when Michal Herzog said: "We will leave a chair not only for Elijah but also for the hostages and we will pray that the holiday will be Festival of Liberty and a Spring Festival that will bring to our souls the spirit of spring."

After Passover come the national days of remembrance and commemoration, Independence Day, Memorial Day for Fallen Soldiers, and Holocaust Remembrance Day. This year, they will take place amid a reality, the likes of which we have never known. "Trust in the state has taken a hit," Herzog says. "Even back on October 9 when we met with evacuated residents of Kibbutz Kfar Aza, the first thing that came up in our conversation with them was the issue of trust. This was repeated in different encounters with different communities. There's a lot of work to be done to rebuild that trust. But we also saw that in many places the power of the community was maintained. We see communities moving into new residences together, albeit temporarily. I follow the work of the Tekuma Directorate and they do a good job, involving communities in their programs.

"Last week, we hosted a screening of Lisa Peretz's film about a massacre that took place in Kiryat Shmona in 1974, exactly fifty years ago. It was literally like October 7 on a smaller scale: three terrorists infiltrated from Lebanon during the Passover holiday and intended to take over a school, but the children were on vacation. They changed plans and attacked two apartment blocks in the city; they went from one apartment to the next and shot people. Sixteen civilians and two soldiers were massacred. There were the same scenes of children hiding in a closet. You watch it today and think: What have we learned? The same chaos, the same waiting for the army until they realized what was happening. But in the end, people came back to live in the city, loving it and seeing it as home. If we want residents in the north and south to return home, the state must cooperate and not put up obstacles. It's up to elected officials and government ministries to make sure this happens."

The catastrophes that have befallen the Jewish people came together when Holocaust survivors were attacked by Hamas murderers and lost loved ones. "Holocaust Remembrance Day takes on many meanings this year. There was a recent event here for Kindertransport survivors – the Jewish children who were saved after being taken to England just before the Holocaust. One of them, Miriam Beit Talmi Shapiro, was three years old when she was evacuated. Over the years, she never gave much thought to the Kindertransport, up until October 7 that is. She is a resident of Kibbutz Zikim who was rescued only on Sunday morning (the day after the attack). When the soldiers told her she had half an hour to pack, she abruptly returned to the girl she was, who had to leave everything in an instant and get on the train. Once again, she had to pack up and run. After Holocaust Remembrance Day, we have Memorial and Independence Days, each with its baggage."

Disputes over how to celebrate

"Nothing will be in its usual, festive format. On the one hand, we must rejoice in our state, the only Jewish state and the only place we will continue to build together and strengthen. On the other hand, as long as we are still fighting and as long as the hostages are still in Gaza, we must take into account the bereaved families and the families of the hostages. We must rejoice in our independent state, but we must also envelop in love and understanding those who have sacrificed the most precious of all, and those who live in uncertainty. We have to go through this journey together."

Q: It is as if there are two forces struggling against each other, those that push for unity and those that pull for division.

"I don't think these are equal forces. It seems that the central, overwhelming force is the power of togetherness. There is a reason that people enlisted immediately, there is a reason that when we hear that someone is in distress or when there is a funeral of a lone soldier, people turn up. A lot of people who never knew the dead or their families come to the homes of mourners come to offer their condolences. They come to say thank you and show solidarity. The past few months are actually proof of our ability to be together and our desire to continue living together. This is the prevailing force; this is our future and this is the beauty of our people. I'm optimistic."

The post 'There are days when I just have no strength left and crawl into bed when the day is over' appeared first on www.israelhayom.com.

Another map details the future fate of the settlement's buildings in colorful markers: the burnt houses slated for demolition are marked in orange, those that are likely to be restored with minor renovations are marked in yellow, and the houses that require significant renovations are marked in blue. Two or three houses are marked light green – these are the ones that don't seem to require any work. Only seemingly. "Nir Oz's devastation is divided into two – physical and emotional," Ron explains. "With the exception of six houses, they [the terrorists] entered all homes, all of them were desecrated. There is no family that has not been affected by the attack. One hundred members, a quarter of the kibbutz's population, were kidnapped or murdered. We have to rebuild the kibbutz on two dimensions – the community's unity and physical construction."

Ron Bahat (57), married to Inbal and father of three daughters ("and a dog," he adds), was born in Nir Oz to Natan and Drora, founding members of the kibbutz. Two years ago, he returned with his family from an 11-year stint in the USA, where he headed an Israeli factory. His eldest daughter is now completing her bachelor's degree there, the other two and the dog have returned with them to the kibbutz. Until October 7th, Ron managed the Ackerstein production site, a company for construction products, in Yeruham. Since the massacre, he has found himself taking care of the kibbutz's growing needs and has become its rehabilitation project manager. "Moshe Paul from Kibbutz Hatzerim was enlisted to integrate both sides of the reconstruction – the technical and the community. I am in charge of the technical," he notes.

Some think that we can't come back to live here.

"Some people will come back, some people say they won't come back, and they will, and some say they won't come back, and really won't come back. The dominant motive is that people lack a sense of security, but I take for granted that there will be security here. The problem is that people suffered great trauma. Who wants to return to a home where people were murdered? For that reason, restoration will involve a lot of demolition and reconstruction. We will rebuild and it will be amazing here. Not everyone who was here will return to live here, but it will be better than people think. Once they see what we're doing here, they will want to be part of it. Ultimately, those who lived here, are connected to the place and love it. It's a connection that's hard to explain in words."

"Somebody should have been here"

A bottle of water and a rope – that's all what Ron managed to run and put in the safe room between the repeated red alerts, after he realized that terrorists had infiltrated the kibbutz. He tied the rope to the handle of the safe room door. He also attached a chest of drawers, to help him pull the door in case the terrorists tried to open it. Inbal was put on guard at the window. "We had never checked to see if it locked properly, and found out it didn't." The two young girls hid under the bed, and the dog lay quietly "without even a whimper." They used the towels as 'their bathroom,' and placed them behind the door, to block the smoke, in case the house caught fire.

"It was an unreal situation. We had electricity, the air conditioner was working, and every once in a while, a squad of terrorists broke into the house. They broke everything and struggled again to open the safe room door. It happened at least five times," Ron describes. In between, he received worried messages and phone calls, including from the director general of the Yeruham municipality, who asked for help blocking the road to the city. Ron contacted one of Ackerstein's employees and asked him to help move concrete blocks to the gates of Yeruham. When terrorists came to his home again, he left it all and went back to fight for his life and the lives of his family members. "We heard gunshots and shouts in Arabic all the time. Through the messages, we understood what was happening everywhere else in the kibbutz. One was begging for someone to come and help, and others asking to save their children. And I couldn't do anything. The security officer, Shahar Butler, was wounded, and his wife dragged him into the safe room. Shachar and one other are the only ones from the first response team who were not murdered or kidnapped."

After Be'eri and Kfar Aza, Nir Oz is one of the three communities where the terrorists hit the hardest. "These are the communities where they infiltrated. It's not a great honor to be on this list, but unfortunately, this is what it is. In the other two communities, the army eventually came and fought back, but not here. The terrorists finished doing what they did, masses of Gazans came and looted, and they all left before the army arrived. They took a lot more than they had anticipated."

At 13:45, the IDF began combing house after house and sending families to the war room. At 17:45, they came to the Bahat's house. Subsequently, the survivors of the massacre were split into two kindergarten buildings on the kibbutz. On Sunday at around 16:00, they boarded buses for Eilat, stopping at the Ramat Hanegev Regional Council on the way. Ron: "After debating whether to continue with the community or give up the nightmare of living in a hotel, we chose to get off the bus in Ramat Hanegev, and from there we went to Midreshet Sde Boker. We've been there ever since. Most of the community moved about a month ago into apartments in Carmei Gat."

Ron returned to the kibbutz the very next day. At night, he returns to Sde Boker. "Someone had to be there. DNA had to be extracted from homes to identify bodies, repair all sorts of damages, and get medications for friends – so naturally I came. For the first two days, I still had not digested what had happened. They collected bodies and data, trying to understand the magnitude of the attack – who was kidnapped, who was dead, who had been murdered between the kibbutz and the Gaza Strip." Ron gasps occasionally, takes a deep breath, and continues. "It was surreal. Missiles were still being fired, and there was no way of evacuating bodies because they had stolen or sabotaged all the tractors and vehicles. We improvised and used an old tractor and a club car that the terrorists tried, but failed, to steal. They are attached to carts and we took the bodies on these to the dining room, until refrigerated trucks arrived."

Ron and Arnon Lifshitz, another kibbutz member, were in charge of rehabilitating the site in the first few days – from repairing burst pipes to removing debris from the fire that raged for almost two continuous days. Two days after the massacre, the cowshed was reopened with the help of volunteers and under the command of kibbutz member, Amit Rubin. With the exception of a handful of workers, only the army stays here at night, but more and more members have been coming to maintain the farm. This week, the fields also came to life. Ron serves mainly, among other things, as acting security officer, and is the one who approves – and mostly does not approve – visits to the kibbutz.

"This is a dilemma that we have been debating with all the time," he shares. "It is important to tell what happened here. It is also important to show missions from around the world who Hamas is and the organization to which many countries donated. The 'freedom fighters' who murdered with terrible cruelty and satanism. Who did they donate to? To these rapists? To these butcher-killers? On the other hand, you can't invade people's privacy, or go into their homes. You also don't want to turn it into a show, free tickets to a performance."

Ron was convinced that someone from the kibbutz would soon take over and replace him ("after all, I came back from the US and re-joined Nir Oz as a resident, not as a member"), but it seems that the kibbutz members trusted his skills and he has proven himself. "As you are going along, you realize how important this place is to you, and how important it is to you that it comes back to life. You understand that this is a mission for you. I find myself as a combined acting chief of staff and undertaker." Ron, a rough kibbutznik, looks at me with smiling, but painful eyes, and describes how he and his friends dug graves for their friends. No, no need to apologize, he reassures. That is not what is going to break him.

We boarded a club car for a tour of Nir Oz's bleeding houses. Here and there you can still see a decorated sukkah, a souvenir from the world BCE. This is the house of Bracha Levinson, who was murdered, and the terrorists put a picture of her body live on her Facebook page. There is the house of the Bibas family [a couple with two young sons, aged 4 and 1, who are being held captive in Gaza]. This is the house of Bracha and David Shalev (75), a couple who knew how to enjoy life. She was on vacation in Egypt, he was murdered at home with his son Tal (54), who had come to visit. The house is completely burnt down. "This is where I realize I'm no longer looking for bodies, but for remains."

Ron points to one of the six houses that were somehow saved from the terrorists' evil touch. On the left, only a motorcycle was stolen. "The guy who lives here wasn't scared by the missiles, he's 'used to it.' Only when he heard the terrorists themselves did he condescend to enter the safe room. If they tried to break in, they would have discovered that there was no need to work hard, because he didn't even bother to lock the front door. That guy is my 86-year-old father." A couple was kidnapped from the house opposite, and children and a father from the one over there. This is where Ron's nanny lived when he was a child, and this is where his children's current nanny lives. Some have returned from captivity in Gaza, and some have not. "It's a kibbutz, a community you're connected to. There's not a single home you don't know, that you haven't visited." The student village of Kedma, on the outskirts of the community, was almost vacant during the holiday, and the five students who were there hid in safe rooms and survived while their homes were burned. In the Thai quarters opposite, an indescribable massacre took place: eleven of the workers were murdered right there, five were taken hostage, and only two have been released.

Decorations still hang on the ceiling of the Bahat family's living room, a tribute to the Sukkot holiday. "We were luckier than others, they didn't shoot at our door or burn down the house." He doesn't come here often, "it's not easy." The young and lively design of the safe room, which was one of his daughter's rooms in normal times, almost defies what happened here. The yard is full of creative and colorful pinwheels, and a statue of a horse on wheels stands in the backyard. This horse "came with us to all demonstrations against the Reform in Be'er Sheva. Each time we hung a different sign on it."

A few meters away, another colorful courtyard catches the eye, replete with artistic creations made from recycled materials. A sign pointing to Gush Katif hangs on the house. The house has been burnt down. "It was the home of Yochka and Oded Lifshitz; both were taken hostage to Gaza. Yochka has been released, but Oded is still being held there, as are about another 35 Nir Oz members." The house next door burned down so much that you can walk over it without noticing that a building once stood there and people lived inside. "This is where Amitai Ben-Zvi lives with his foreign worker, the wonderful Jimmy." When the terrorists broke into the house, Amitai shouted to Jimmy to run away and save himself, but Jimmy was kidnapped. When released, Jimmy told Amitai's children that before their father was murdered, he asked to tell them that he loved them.

In front of the house, which seems to have completely evaporated, is the gate through which most of the hostages were taken. From here, the Nir Oz fields extend right up to the Gaza Strip houses, some of which have since been demolished by the IDF. At the end of it all, I ask to go to the cemetery and lay a stone on the fresh graves. "Nir Oz planted plants before they built houses," Ron says with a smile, as we drive through the greenery surrounding the cemetery. "Ran Pauker, now 87, was the kibbutz's legendary gardener. He was the first to call me after the massacre, saying: 'I'm a pensioner and I'm in decent condition. When can I come and how can I help?' And he does come. He sprays. He deals with the greenery."

Among the new plots lies those of the Siman Tov family; parents and three children who were murdered together. Tamar ran for mayor of the Eshkol Regional Council. Grandmother Carol was murdered in another house. Aviv Atzili's grave is just behind them. He was the head of the local garage. "Everyone liked him. He was everyone's friend, and he fell in the battle, fighting for our home," Ron says. Two new graves were dug nearby, victims of a massacre who were not murdered on that day, but whose health deteriorated severely in its wake, and they died recently. "You have to remember that we also have kidnapped friends in Gaza, whose fate is unknown, and some of them might have been murdered," says Ron, hinting at the graves that are still going to be added here.

Only 1.6 km [1 mile] separates Nir Oz from the Gaza Strip. Seven seconds in terms of Code Red [emergency alert code of fired missiles]. "The first fall catches you on your way to the safe room, on the second you are already inside," Ron says. In Aviv's garage, photographs of the hostages who worked here hang on the refrigerator. Alongside them is a spectacular mosaic of many small photographs of Aviv, which together create a picture of Tzvi Atzili. They have started a new tradition in the large area outside the garage – "closing the week" with a get-together and a good meal. Ron plans to hold such a feast every Thursday, a community day once a month, and a book show once every two months.

When will you know that it is safe to return home?

"A sense of security is a feeling, and you can't argue with it. But four things need to happen in order for us to be able to say that it is safe here: First of all, that the IDF must be allowed to go into the Gaza Strip and do what it knows how to do – break down the infrastructure of Hamas. Second, an IDF base must be placed between Nir Oz and the Gaza Strip. Once we defended the country with our bodies, now the army must be the one standing between us and them. The same force that came to us on October 7th - about 130 Nukhba terrorists on vans and motorcycles, armed with machine guns, grenades, and automatic weapons – they probably would have entered an army base as well, and nothing would have been able to stop them. But I believe that the perception of security will change on all IDF bases.

"Third, we have to upgrade the first response teams and ensure that they have got the protective means they need. Perhaps we must also create a combined defense force with the IDF. That leads me to the fourth and most important point, and I emphasize: we are not going to bury ourselves protecting ourselves. There will be a fence and a first response team, but the concept must be active; offensive, and not defensive. Whoever approaches the fence is dealt with on the spot. There is no Bedouin camp, nor is there any Arab village, with a fence around it. Yet there is no theft there, because who would dare to steal from them? The culture and policy of inclusion must end. Several hundred Qassam missiles landed here in recent years, fields were burned by incendiary balloons, and there was no response. This cannot happen again. There must be a reaction to every little movement and, yes, it must be disproportionate."

Don't get me wrong, Bahat is still in favor of what he calls a "Gaza state." "Children, women, and the elderly were complicit in the looting, and whoever crossed the fence did not come to help us. As far as I'm concerned, whoever came seriously deserves a bullet in the head. But there were many who didn't cross the fence. Ultimately, there are two million people living there, and I don't want any of them on my conscience. I want them to live the best way they can. I want them to have something to lose. We have to make sure that the education there is different. At the same time, whoever embraces Hamas is considered an enemy. If someone comes to kill you, you stand up and kill them first. Up until now, we have said, 'It's okay, embrace Hamas, as long as you are not a Hamas member yourself, we will accept you. That's over. If there is general support for Hamas, we are not out to handpick who is Hamas and who is not."

A notice about a demonstration [against the Reform] on the evening of that terrible Saturday still hangs on Nir Oz's dining room wall. "Demonstrating in Be'er Sheva on Saturday, 7/10, at 19:15. The demonstration is without a march. Changes to the schedule are expected." Ron smiles: "We went every single Saturday night, but now that Aviv is gone, my best friend here is Amutsi, the only kibbutz member who has become religious and still lives here. He is strongly opposed to the demonstrations."

Ron's eyes suddenly light up when we return to discussing the rebuilding of the kibbutz. "My vision is 80-800: 80 percent of the kibbutz buildings must be demolished and rebuilt, at a cost of 800 million Shekels. I believe it can be done in two years; maybe a little more. It will be a national mission, but we can do it. And it will be bigger, stronger and more improved. We can't say 'better' when we are missing all the murdered victims, but we will be more ecologically aware, with a forward-thinking approach. We will build houses with low energy consumption and solar heating panels. We will prepare new and adapted construction plans. And yes, we will remain a kibbutz. Perhaps less cooperative than it was, and more open to those who want to be part of a moral lifestyle of mutual accountability, education, community and upgrading of sustainability."

How will you include the memory of the massacre victims within this project of restoration?

"The suggested range of remembrance and commemoration is vast – from 'we will not touch anything' to a purely digital commemoration. On a personal level, I am not prepared to live on a memorial site. Do you know when most people visited Auschwitz? During the Covid-19 pandemic. The digital visit brought crowds to visualization tours. On the other hand, something must be done. Israeli culture does not know how to preserve and maintain sites, so we need professionals who know how to do it right. As someone who was here on the day after the massacre – with the smells everywhere, and smoke rising, and all this blackness – I can tell you that even now the black is not the same black, and the smells have completely changed. Rain has fallen, and green covers what was here. That is the power of nature. Obviously, if we don't do it properly, in seven years there will be nothing here. We can decide that a certain number of houses must be left here for memory, but the rest must be built. It is very difficult and painful to say this, but Nir Oz was captured on October 7th. If the kibbutz doesn't rise again, it will be a victory for them. So, we will build, and we will make Nir Oz bigger and stronger and more improved so that the masses will want to come again and see it."

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