Return to Nir Oz
Amidst the euphoria surrounding the rescue of Noa Argamani, Almog Meir Jan, Andrey Kozlov and Shlomi Ziv, Israel remains a country in mourning. The cost of the heroic rescue included the life of Yamam special forces commander Arnon Zamora z’l, 36, who led the assault on the apartment in which the three male hostages were held. And in the days preceding the rescue, the IDF announced that four of those taken hostage on October 7 had been killed in captivity, likely in January. They were Nadav Popplewell z’l, Amiram Cooper z’l, Yoram Metzger z’l and Haim Peri z’l. The latter three, all in their 80s, were abducted from Kibbutz Nir Oz.
I’ve made a number of visits to Nir Oz, located near the southern end of Israel’s border with Gaza, a community that paid a horrific price on that terrible day. Home to roughly 100 families and just over 400 residents, the terrorists’ grisly rampage had completely run its course before the first IDF soldier arrived, the few members of the kibbutz’s civil guard having been hopelessly overwhelmed during the first hours of the assault. By the time the murderous rampage ended, more than one in four of the residents were either taken or dead.
Though some of the communities in the Gaza Envelope have seen growing numbers of residents beginning to return, that is not yet the case at Nir Oz, where the damage is too extensive and proximity to the ongoing war a continuing factor. A small number of determined members of the community are there, working in anticipation of a wider return, undertaking repairs and maintenance, and tending to the fields. And, from time to time, the larger community gathers, as they did last Sunday, to mourn lost friends and neighbors.
Amiram Cooper, 84, was a father of three and grandfather of nine. His widow, Nurit, also taken hostage on October 7, was thankfully among the first to be released, returning to Israel on October 23. Amiram was one of the founding members of the kibbutz. A poet and composer – his verses and songs, a soundtrack of sorts for Nir Oz, and they were woven throughout the beautiful memorial which drew hundreds of neighbors and friends. Many Nir Oz families are living in temporary quarters in the northern Negev community of Kiryat Gat, while others are scattered far and wide across the country.
The setting was magnificent, a sloping lawn in front of the community dining hall – no doubt a treasured space for gatherings of all kinds over the years. A small platform served as a stage of sorts, situated beneath the canopy of a Weeping Fig Tree. Throughout the course of the hour-long program, tributes and eulogies were interspersed with readings and music. Cooper’s songs were sung by his granddaughter and by legendary Israeli musician, Ehud Banai, whose voice and music have found their way to countless events like this one in recent months. Though the songs were unfamiliar to me, nearly all of those who had gathered, both young and old, quietly sang along as many wiped tears from their eyes.
In the background we heard birdsong, as the great diversity of trees, plants and flowers at Nir Oz draw untold numbers of migratory birds. In so many respects, it is hard to imagine a more beautiful setting in which to honor and remember the life of an Israeli pioneer.
And yet, one didn’t need to look particularly hard or listen too carefully to understand the darker context of a life cut short. Just beyond the Weeping Fig Tree, through fairly dense foliage, is the blackened, burned-out remainder of a structure not long ago home to a young family. Behind us, bullet holes can still be seen in the windows of the dining hall. Those who ventured inside were confronted by the wanton destruction left in the terrorists’ wake. Yet another soundtrack was heard throughout the course of the program as well – beyond the music and the birds. It was the sound of war, still being waged across Southern Gaza as Israel fights to secure the safe return of the 120 remaining hostages and subdue the last vestiges of the terrorist leadership. It seems, at one and the same time, the explosions go barely noticed – and are impossible to ignore.
There were three memorial gatherings at Nir Oz this week – and another at Kibbutz Nirim, not far to the north, the former home of Nadav Popplewell, 51. These were memorials, but not funerals as the bodies remain in the hands of their killers – leaving an open wound in the hearts of family, friends and the members of their communities, destined to return once more when their bodies will finally be brought home. Among the remaining hostages are 35 members of the Nir Oz family – 13 of whom, including Amiram Cooper, Yoram Metzger and Haim Peri, are known to have died.
Meanwhile, many of the long-time residents of Nir Oz look forward to returning home to their once joyous community – while others can’t yet imagine coming back for more than a brief visit, the wounds still too raw, the trauma too intense, the memories of that day seemingly too much to bear. The future, and the present, continue to unfold in the face of further uncertainty – though one thing is without doubt. Nir Oz will rise again.
On our way back to Tel Aviv, Janet and I stopped in Re’im, at the site of the Nova Music Festival, which is now home to an evolving series of memorials to the murdered revelers, and shrines to those still in captivity. Since my last visit in January, there have been a number of changes, among them the planting of a forest, each sapling dedicated to the memory of one of the 364 victims. We arrived just as the sun was setting.
May their memories be for a blessing. Am Yisrael Chai – עם ישראל חי.