As his megaphone crackles with his exhausted voice while perched on a car on Kaplan Street in Tel Aviv, Einav Tsengauker addresses a crowd that spontaneously gathered there on the evening of May 6, after the announcement of Hamas’ approval of a ceasefire agreement. “This opportunity is probably the last chance for our loved ones to come back alive,” Tsengauker exclaimed. “If our prime minister misses this opportunity, I will make all Israelis come out. The streets will burn, the country will burn. You cannot play with people’s lives like this.” Her 24-year-old son, Matan, was abducted in Nir Oz on October 7.
Her frustration mirrors the emotional roller coaster of the past several days, fraught with political tension. When the war cabinet announced on Monday evening that it is continuing the operation in Rafah, the feeling of abandonment grew stronger than ever. “Our far-right leaders are ready to sacrifice our hostages and our soldiers to keep their seats,” said Tsengauker, who added that she no longer expects even a gesture of empathy from the government.
“No empathy with families”
As members of Parents Circle-Families Forum (PCFF), a grassroots organization comprised of both Israeli and Palestinians who have lost loved ones due to the conflict, Einav and other relatives of hostages have been waging a battle for 213 days that has turned some families from untouchable citizens into real targets. Einav was targeted by the powerful jet of a water cannon during a demonstration in Tel Aviv on February 24, and was also called a “criminal” on the radio by Yinon Magal, a journalist from the religious Zionist movement.
“It’s a form of intimidation, a way to discourage people and silence them,” says Zahiro Shahar Mor. Sporting a shaved head and a full goatee, this bank employee, whose 78-year-old uncle Avraham Munder is also being held captive in Gaza, has been arrested twice and was called in for questioning on May 1 following vandalism accusations. During a demonstration on April 27, he tagged “Bibi is a murderer” on the facade of the right-wing Likud party offices in Tel Aviv. “All of this is political,” he declared. “(Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin) Netanyahu and his government are making us internal enemies. There is no empathy with the families. It’s easier to manage their war.”
“Everything you say against Netanyahu serves Hamas”
These “enemies” are primarily the families calling for Netanyahu’s resignation and advocating for a ceasefire agreement rather than a military operation in Rafah, which they anticipate will be deadly for their loved ones. “At least three people received messages from the prime minister’s office saying, ‘everything you say against Netanyahu serves Sinwar (the Hamas leader in Gaza),'” recounts Zahiro Shahar Mor. “This is official propaganda, widely echoed in the mainstream media. But if we don’t shout, no one will. We are a lifeline, an oxygen line for those in the tunnels. The stakes are to remain present in public opinion, so that this line continues to exist, but we are fighting against a government that controls the media cycle.”
When public support is needed, the prime minister and the rest of the Israeli political right settle for the bare minimum: a few statements, and one or two meetings. In contrast, US President Joe Biden recently received Avigail Idan, a 4-year-old hostage released in November, at the White House on April 24. Her visit was memorialized by a photo of the smiling girl in Biden’s arms. In a Likud WhatsApp group, an express request was made not to share it, in order to avoid damaging Netanyahu’s image of him.
