OpinionOpinion

An Irish man in Israel: As news came of the ceasefire deal, there were no celebrations on the streets of Tel Aviv

My eight-year-old daughter Ella’s excitement didn’t rub off on the other passengers on the bus, who seemed unfazed by the breaking news

People check for news updates at the plaza now known as Hostages’ Square in Tel Aviv, Israel, on January 16th, but there was little sense of excitement over news of a ceasefire deal. Photograph: Avishag Shaar-Yashuv/New York Times
People check for news updates at the plaza now known as Hostages’ Square in Tel Aviv, Israel, on January 16th, but there was little sense of excitement over news of a ceasefire deal. Photograph: Avishag Shaar-Yashuv/New York Times
Paul Kearns
Fri Jan 17 2025 - 12:28

“I can’t believe it,” my eight-year-old daughter Ella exclaimed excitedly when I told her on the way home from drama class that the war may be over and the hostages were coming home. “No more sirens,” she beamed. Hopefully, I said, before mumbling something absurd about the continued risk of Houthi rockets from Yemen. These are the conversations we tend to have with our children in Israel. The rest of the bus passengers seemed unfazed by her excitement or the breaking news that a deal had been struck to end the war.

The announcement on Wednesday night of an Israeli-Hamas truce and a possible permanent cessation of hostilities is undeniably a momentous event, most of all for the population of Gaza, who can now dare not to fear death and destruction from Israeli military air strikes. Maybe. Less than 12 hours after the ceasefire agreement was announced, 70 Palestinians were killed in yet another air strike.

Perhaps because there is so much uncertainty surrounding the deal, there is little evidence of any joy or celebration on the streets of Tel Aviv. On Thursday morning, the day after the deal became public, the city didn’t look or feel any different from any other morning of war over the past year. In what has become known as Hostages Square, the plaza in front of the Tel Aviv Museum, the atmosphere was relatively quiet, with the usual smattering of Israeli school groups visiting, the notable exception the presence of foreign media television cameras.

While many Israelis, in my experience, appear to be in denial about the extent of the devastation and death toll in Gaza, and many are largely deluded about the views of the outside world, few are in denial about the fact that an identical hostage deal was on the table as long ago as March 2024 – and most are angry

It is unsurprising that after 468 days of war, during which just under 1,900 Israelis have been killed, a majority of those murdered on October 7th, 2023, the mood in Israel remains palpably subdued. While there is cautious optimism that the remaining hostages will come home – which is now expected to happen on Sunday – there is considerable anxiety that the Hamas deal could yet unravel or indeed be sabotaged by the far-right extremists in prime minister Binyamin Netanyahu’s governing coalition. Late on Thursday, far-right minister of national security Itamar Ben Gvir threatened to quit the government in protest. Just this week Ben-Gvir boasted that he and minister for finance Bezalel Smotrich (both leaders of Judeo-supremacist far-right parties) were the driving forces in thwarting similar past deals with Hamas. “We succeeded in the past year through our political power in preventing this deal from going through.”

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While many Israelis, in my experience, appear to be in denial about the extent of the devastation and death toll in Gaza, and many are largely deluded about the views of the outside world, few are in denial about the fact that an identical hostage deal was on the table as long ago as March 2024 – and most are angry. That delay has likely resulted in the deaths of an unknown number, perhaps dozens, of hostages. In late August, six hostages held for almost a year were reported to have been shot at close range just a couple of days before their bodies were found. Over those same “lost” 10 months, a further 25,000 Palestinians have been killed in Gaza.

Since a potential deal in March 2024 more than 120 Israeli soldiers have also been killed. Almost every (non-religious orthodox or Arab) Israeli teenager, male and female, serves in the army. They are required by law to do so. The daily reported deaths of soldiers resonates deeply with every Israeli parent. Walking to school a few months back with my daughter, a young female soldier was walking ahead of us, with khaki uniform and standard assault rifle slung over her shoulder. She looked barely 15. I asked my daughter, curious to see her response, if she would like to be a soldier. “No,” came the curt reply. Why, I asked. “Because they die,” she replied. She then asked me if I had been a soldier. I said no, telling her there are not so many soldiers in Ireland. “So who protects you in Ireland when they try to kill you?” she asked.

While most Israelis may be aware of the ferocity of criticism abroad of the state’s military actions in Gaza, few appear to have genuinely grasped the extent and depth to which the image of the country has plunged because of those actions

I said nothing, but couldn’t help but think that some 18,000 Palestinian children have been killed directly or indirectly by Israeli air strikes since the war began, and that Gaza is just 60km south of our home in Tel Aviv. Her knowledge of the war is limited for the most part to sirens, rocket booms and running to bomb shelters. She knows there are hostages and has caught glimpses of the devastation in Gaza. I shudder to think when and how I discuss those 18,000 children’s deaths with her. These are sentiments I rarely, if ever, share with Israelis around me for the understandable risk of sounding sanctimonious and self-serving. After all, I chose to live here. There is also a genuine fear of what I may hear politically in response.

While most Israelis may be aware of the ferocity of criticism abroad of the state’s military actions in Gaza, few appear to have genuinely grasped the extent and depth to which the image of the country has plunged because of those actions. Perhaps for this reason, I have not returned to Dublin with two young Hebrew-speaking Israeli daughters since October 7th, 2023.

As of this weekend many difficult questions remain unanswered. When and if the hostilities will cease? Which hostages are dead or alive? Will the government of Netanyahu collapse? Who will govern the Gaza Strip in the months or years ahead?

Whatever happens in the medium term, there is no going back to the political status quo of October 6th, 2023, not least because Israel’s standing in the world and Israel itself have changed irrevocably. Talk of eventual “peace” uttered this week by the Qatari spokesperson to the negotiations – perhaps a slip of the tongue – seems premature if not somewhat unintentionally facile. Peace is a word one rarely ever hears in Israel today. “Truce”, “ceasefire” or “agreement”: perhaps. “Peace”: no.

There has been no meaningful peace process since the rejection of Israeli prime minister Ehud Olmert’s ‘offer’ – now almost two decades ago – of a two-state solution in 2008. What remained of the Israeli (Zionist) left was effectively eviscerated on the morning of October 7th, 2023. Neither the return of all the remaining hostages, nor a long-term cessation of violence, will do much to change that.

Paul Kearns is a freelance journalist from Dublin who lives in Tel Aviv