We are still in their debt

After describing what he went through, he looked into the camera. He was not ashamed, but he did not look entirely comfortable either. "I don't want to ask for help, but I have to," he said. The request was relatively simple: support in rebuilding life. Not pleasures, not luxuries, not big dreams. Just getting back on track. And I was ashamed. I wanted to disappear. To ask for forgiveness that this is his situation. That all this is happening less than three years since the massacre.

Evyatar David popped up on my Instagram this week. He looks good. The background behind him is also relatively good. The contrast between his appearance and the atrocities he detailed was like an arrow to the heart. And above all, it is a reminder of the illusion that we have moved on with our lives and everything is fine. Of the mistaken perception that many of the survivors of captivity are doing just fine. Well, they are not. True, there are many other victims of October 7, and a law on payments for former captives provides support to survivors. And yet, it seems it is not to the appropriate extent. The state certainly wants to help and is doing a lot, but the response is not complete because the need to recover from such a disaster has never existed before. Entire family circles have not worked for a period or are struggling to return to routine. The situation is different on many levels, and there is a semi-philosophical discussion here about what "recovery" is.

The point is that in the meantime, campaigns are being held to supplement resources that will help in returning to life. And this is a badge of shame for Israeli society. In days when huge budgets are quickly transferred to goals that are not urgent, such an issue cannot remain open. And in less delicate words: why on earth are there still survivors of captivity in this state? The fact that some of them star positively in the public consciousness and receive opportunities does not necessarily indicate the rule. Not everyone has a talent for writing, the ability to lecture, or financial backing from home. And even those who do, certainly experience difficulties and complexities beyond what can be imagined. So what will those who are not in the headlines say, who receive few offers, are forced to manage with less, or who came from a different status to begin with?

It is true that the Israeli public is tired. It is exhausted. It has no strength to hear more about what happened. It wants to continue its life. But that is exactly the point. Things are connected. Because until they recover — we do not recover. A state that does not know how to put its victims on their feet will never bring itself to a healthy routine. Because the hostages represented not only themselves. They were a symbol of the loss of Israeli sovereignty. With their return, Israel restored its sovereignty. But sovereignty is a means and not an end. The purpose is prosperity, a life of abundance, culture, and knowledge, in a Jewish and democratic state. And for this reason, the state's duty did not end with their exit from hell. It continues to recovery. And whoever does not recover their hostages reveals that they are not thinking about a proper "day after" for their citizens.

The State of Israel has money. It is successful, prosperous, and powerful. And it must reflect this internally as well. Our heart is no longer in Gaza, but the mind — it yearns for a different reality. For them, and for us. So while parties are scrambling for votes, survivors of captivity find themselves asking for support. And to connect the things, here is a proposal for every Zionist party: not just support for reservists, eliminating Hamas, and universal conscription. A law for hostages and their families. But a real one. Not an update of old legislation with constraints and actuarial calculations that will produce irrelevant sums. A law that will examine what they really need and give it to them, once and for all.