Trump Delivers: All Israeli Hostages Freed, Nation Unites in Emotional Farewell

Paul Riverbank, 1/28/2026Israel reunites over recovered hostages; debates over Gaza's future reveal deep, unresolved tensions.

Close by, Itzik Gvili seemed almost to argue with the stillness. “You dummy, you had every chance to stay at home,” he told his son, his voice cracking as he managed a smile between tears. Ran, nursing a fractured collarbone last fall, chose not rest but duty. “I won’t leave my friends to fight alone,” he’d insisted on the eve of his departure to the front. Familiarly stubborn, but there was a kind of clarity there that’s hard to teach.

Ran’s loss, like so many, could have torn at Israel’s frayed social fabric. Yet in death, he became a point of unity unusual for a country so often at odds with itself. Over the flag-draped coffin, police stood shoulder to shoulder with soldiers, ranks blurring in shared grief. That nearly everyone—from ordinary citizens to the top brass—had come together, at least for a while, would have surprised no one who knew Ran.

A grim logistical feat made it possible: a large operation in northern Gaza, sifting through nearly 250 recovered bodies, DNA samples in hand. The country’s police commissioner, Daniel Levy, called Gvili the “DNA” of the force. Maybe he intended the phrase literally and figuratively. One cannot say for certain.

No apology could bridge the gap left by failure to save him, not that anyone expected otherwise. But these are the words Levy offered, and sometimes that’s all anyone can do. “We apologize... that we could not save you and bring you back alive.”

Talik Gvili, clutching a tissue, spoke with remarkable composure. She found time to thank not just the assembled mourners, but also President Trump, Jared Kushner, and Steve Witkoff—a detail American ears may find curious, but which reflected the international diplomatic effort behind the hostages’ return. “Our pride is much, much stronger than our pain,” she said. That was true, although there was pain enough to go around.

Steve Witkoff, dispatched by Washington, framed the day as historic. “Now, ALL 20 living hostages and all 28 deceased hostages in Gaza have now been returned to their families — a monumental, historic feat that few thought was possible.” He gave credit widely but noted that the president “works tirelessly for peace.” A moment’s odd punctuation, perhaps, but the sentiment was clear.

President Trump himself took to Truth Social. The post was exultant. “Just recovered the last hostage body in GAZA... got back ALL 20 of the living hostages, and ALL of the dead! AMAZING JOB!” He did not understate American involvement—a point Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu would not dispute. Standing at a Knesset podium, Netanyahu called Trump Israel’s greatest presidential ally, full stop.

That unity around the hostages, however, fractured almost immediately as debate surged over Gaza’s future. The sticking point: Hamas’s demand that its 10,000-strong force have a role—formal or informal—in any future policing of the enclave. Officially, Hamas had governed much of Gaza since before the latest war, but now, post-ceasefire and in the ruins of conflict, the group sought legitimacy through police uniforms.

“Catastrophically bad idea,” one Israeli columnist wrote. Others echoed the view: these are fighters, not officers. The suggestion that the same men who fought Israel could now direct its neighbors’ traffic was—to much of the Israeli public and its allies—simply inconceivable.

U.S. and Israeli officials, for now, have mostly kept their reactions quiet. One government advisor said, curtly, “If there are any vestiges of sanity left in this world, the reaction... should be simply to tell Hamas where to head in.” No official statement was forthcoming, but few in diplomatic circles expect Israel or its chief partners to embrace the notion.

For the time being, the sense of release in Gvili’s return temporarily overshadows the unresolved future. The October 7 wounds—the violence, the loss, the moral injury—remain as deep as ever. But for the families who kept porch lights burning, there is closure now.

What next? The hard questions linger: who will run Gaza, how to keep the peace, how to keep history from repeating. These will not be settled at a single graveside or in any closed-door negotiation. As the ceremony ended, mourners filed away quietly. Only a few lingered. Sometimes, in Israel, that kind of quiet is as rare and precious as any victory.

A patch of pale sunlight broke through the clouds at the military cemetery as Ran Gvili’s coffin arrived—Israel’s last hostage to come home, though not in life. The sight was raw, beyond solemn. It wasn’t just a funeral; it was—at least for now—the end of a story that had gripped and troubled Israel for 843 days.Close by, Itzik Gvili seemed almost to argue with the stillness. “You dummy, you had every chance to stay at home,” he told his son, his voice cracking as he managed a smile between tears. Ran, nursing a fractured collarbone last fall, chose not rest but duty. “I won’t leave my friends to fight alone,” he’d insisted on the eve of his departure to the front. Familiarly stubborn, but there was a kind of clarity there that’s hard to teach.Ran’s loss, like so many, could have torn at Israel’s frayed social fabric. Yet in death, he became a point of unity unusual for a country so often at odds with itself. Over the flag-draped coffin, police stood shoulder to shoulder with soldiers, ranks blurring in shared grief. That nearly everyone—from ordinary citizens to the top brass—had come together, at least for a while, would have surprised no one who knew Ran.A grim logistical feat made it possible: a large operation in northern Gaza, sifting through nearly 250 recovered bodies, DNA samples in hand. The country’s police commissioner, Daniel Levy, called Gvili the “DNA” of the force. Maybe he intended the phrase literally and figuratively. One cannot say for certain.No apology could bridge the gap left by failure to save him, not that anyone expected otherwise. But these are the words Levy offered, and sometimes that’s all anyone can do. “We apologize... that we could not save you and bring you back alive.”Talik Gvili, clutching a tissue, spoke with remarkable composure. She found time to thank not just the assembled mourners, but also President Trump, Jared Kushner, and Steve Witkoff—a detail American ears may find curious, but which reflected the international diplomatic effort behind the hostages’ return. “Our pride is much, much stronger than our pain,” she said. That was true, although there was pain enough to go around.Steve Witkoff, dispatched by Washington, framed the day as historic. “Now, ALL 20 living hostages and all 28 deceased hostages in Gaza have now been returned to their families — a monumental, historic feat that few thought was possible.” He gave credit widely but noted that the president “works tirelessly for peace.” A moment’s odd punctuation, perhaps, but the sentiment was clear.President Trump himself took to Truth Social. The post was exultant. “Just recovered the last hostage body in GAZA... got back ALL 20 of the living hostages, and ALL of the dead! AMAZING JOB!” He did not understate American involvement—a point Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu would not dispute. Standing at a Knesset podium, Netanyahu called Trump Israel’s greatest presidential ally, full stop.That unity around the hostages, however, fractured almost immediately as debate surged over Gaza’s future. The sticking point: Hamas’s demand that its 10,000-strong force have a role—formal or informal—in any future policing of the enclave. Officially, Hamas had governed much of Gaza since before the latest war, but now, post-ceasefire and in the ruins of conflict, the group sought legitimacy through police uniforms.“Catastrophically bad idea,” one Israeli columnist wrote. Others echoed the view: these are fighters, not officers. The suggestion that the same men who fought Israel could now direct its neighbors’ traffic was—to much of the Israeli public and its allies—simply inconceivable.U.S. and Israeli officials, for now, have mostly kept their reactions quiet. One government advisor said, curtly, “If there are any vestiges of sanity left in this world, the reaction... should be simply to tell Hamas where to head in.” No official statement was forthcoming, but few in diplomatic circles expect Israel or its chief partners to embrace the notion.For the time being, the sense of release in Gvili’s return temporarily overshadows the unresolved future. The October 7 wounds—the violence, the loss, the moral injury—remain as deep as ever. But for the families who kept porch lights burning, there is closure now.What next? The hard questions linger: who will run Gaza, how to keep the peace, how to keep history from repeating. These will not be settled at a single graveside or in any closed-door negotiation. As the ceremony ended, mourners filed away quietly. Only a few lingered. Sometimes, in Israel, that kind of quiet is as rare and precious as any victory.