People attend a seder in support of hostages kidnapped in the deadly Oct. 7 attack on Israel by the Palestinian Islamist group Hamas from Gaza, at the beginning of the Jewish holiday of Passover, in Tel Aviv, Israel on April 22.Hannah McKay/Reuters
As Israelis sat down to a fraught Passover Seder, many uncomfortable at the thought of celebrating while hostages remain in Gaza, Palestinians began to uproot again, this time to leave the Gaza city where, it is believed, Hamas is hiding some of those it has kept captive.
It was a night that, like many before it, brought into stark relief the toll of a war now nearing its 200th day.
In downtown Tel Aviv, at a plaza that has become known as Hostage Square, linen table cloths and wine glasses were set out Monday for residents of Kibbutz Be’eri, where more than 130 people were killed in the Hamas-led attack on Oct. 7. Be’eri still counts 11 hostages in Gaza, six of them already confirmed dead.
In the southern city of Rafah, meanwhile, doctors readied a move to other parts of the strip, fearful that Israel is preparing a strike against a city where roughly 1.5 million Palestinians have gathered after escaping violence elsewhere in Gaza.
Their anxiety was heightened by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who used a Passover statement to indicate a major new military offensive. This Passover, he said, 124 Israeli hostages are not at Seder tables with their families, while Hamas is “hardening its heart and refusing to let our people go.”
“Therefore, we will strike it with additional painful blows – and this will happen soon,” he said. “In the coming days, we will increase the military and diplomatic pressure on Hamas because this is the only way to free our hostages and achieve our victory.”
Mr. Netanyahu has already promised that an offensive on Rafah “will happen.”
The city once numbered 150,000 but has swelled to 10 times that size, its schools and streets crowded with displaced people. Now, some of those people have begun to move again, toward Al-Mawasi, a small strip along the Mediterranean that Israeli authorities have called a “safer zone” but which is now so crammed with tents that not even an ambulance can gain entrance.
“There is no space,” said Mohammed Abu Mughaiseeb, a doctor in Rafah with Médecins sans frontières. He expressed frustration with Israeli authorities. “Do they want them to go the beach? To the sea? To swim?”
Israel is pulling some troops from southern Gaza, but vows clearing Hamas from Rafah remains a goal
Dr. Abu Mughaiseeb works primarily at the Rafah Indonesian Field Hospital, which has 60 trauma beds – the majority of them occupied by women and children. If Israel attacks, he said, the hospital “will close and we have to evacuate.”
Work has already begun to prepare a move to Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis, a distance of roughly 10 kilometres. But Nasser Hospital “needs rehabilitation,” he said, requiring not just a thorough cleaning but basic services. It currently has no electricity or water.
Plans had already been under way to resume operations at Nasser, he said. That work has become more urgent after the warning from Mr. Netanyahu.
“We will try to accelerate things because we know that soon Rafah will be under attack,” he said.
So many Palestinians are now in Rafah that any Israeli attack is likely to lead to significant casualties, he warned. More than 34,000 Palestinians have already died in the war, according to local authorities.
Hospital staff are already looking for new places to live, since “leaving under air strikes and shelling is very dangerous,” Dr. Abu Mughaiseeb said. He himself has already moved three times; others count more than a dozen relocations since war began.
“If you see the faces of the people, they are really lost,” he said.
So, too, the faces in Hostage Square, as people from around Israel gathered, some unwilling to take their Passover meal at home or celebrate at a sombre time.
“You need to understand that every Israeli feels as if they have been kidnapped,” said Merav Tal, 60, a psychotherapist who has helped people affected by the war. “We are in collective trauma now,” she said.
She came to Tel Aviv with her two sons, who both live near areas of fighting, one near the border with Lebanon, another near the Gaza Strip. They came to Tel Aviv to support other families with empty seats at the table this year.
They considered, for a moment, what they would like Israel to do in Rafah. Civilians there complicate that decision, said Jordan Tal, 25. But “once you have a terror organization, its sole purpose is to destroy you – so you don’t really have a choice.”
Ms. Tal had few such qualms.
“I think we must,” she said. “Most of the terrorists are there. And the hostages.”
Yet among those who have seen the greatest loss, the prospect of an assault on the densely-populated city gave reason for pause.
Further military action may damage more than it delivers, said Noam Yitshaki, a psychologist from Be’eri.
One of the hostages, a friend, was killed “after military action in his area,” she said. “So for me personally, I don’t think our experience shows that this is what helps.”
Ms. Yitshaki helped to plan the Be’eri Seder at Hostage Square, a location chosen for its visibility and tangible connection to the missing. “We wanted to call for the release of our friends,” she said. “But we also wanted to feel that we are ourselves – that you can take a lot of things from us, but you cannot take who we are.”
Among those joining the Be’eri Seder was Raz Ben Ami, who was taken hostage on Oct. 7, then returned 54 days later. Her husband, Ohad, remains a hostage in Gaza. This Passover brings fractured feelings, said their daughter, Yuli Ben Amir: a celebration with her returned mother, even as “our heart is there” – in Gaza. “It’s not easy.”
Whether Israel attacks Rafah, she said, is a military matter and not her concern.
“I just want my father back,” she said.