Trump’s Leadership Delivers Israel’s Miracle: All Hostages Home at Last

Paul Riverbank, 1/28/2026Israel welcomes all hostages home; Trump praised, yet peace and trust remain elusive.

With Gvili’s return, both the living and the lost hostages are now accounted for. On paper, that reads like a resolution. In reality, it feels more like reaching the end of a single, bruising chapter. When Steve Witkoff, the U.S. special envoy, called this the start of a “new day in the Middle East,” a few listeners might have bristled. But Witkoff wasn’t alone in crediting President Trump and his administration, who’d pushed hard behind the scenes. Trump made his presence unmistakably felt, taking to Truth Social for a round of self-congratulation that felt equally celebratory and calculated: “Just recovered the last hostage body in GAZA. Thus, got back ALL 20 of the living hostages, and ALL of the dead! AMAZING JOB!” he cheered. That post, in typical Trumpian fashion, left little room for understatement.

The mood in Israel has been difficult to define. On the one hand, relief, yes—a sliver of pride flashed through in Gvili’s mother’s remarks, as she thanked everyone from the president to Jared Kushner, and, of course, the Israeli public who had not forgotten. Yet beneath that pride, there’s an ache that even celebration can’t quite smother. Has the wound closed? Maybe. But the scar, still fresh, won’t vanish overnight.

Prime Minister Netanyahu, speaking in the Knesset, gave one of his more candid nods to American support: “No American president has ever done more for Israel. It ain’t even close.” The streets saw something rare when Witkoff and Trump appeared for the return of the rescued hostages: onlookers cheered. It was as if the country was momentarily unified not just in relief, but in gratitude. Those moments will linger, probably more in memory than in the day-to-day grind of politics.

Yet, as expected, the sense of finality is elusive. The specter of Hamas remains—an inescapable shadow over everything. Now, with rumors swirling around Hamas’s push to get 10,000 of their own police officers folded into whatever authority governs Gaza next, skepticism among Israeli politicians and the public is practically a given. “You can’t trust these people. They. Just. Can’t. Be. Trusted,” wrote one commentator—not mincing words, but certainly channeling the popular mood. And there’s the rawness: October 7 still burns hot in the national psyche, making compromise a non-starter for most.

The effort that led to Gvili’s recovery was painstaking—Israeli teams combed cemeteries, working by torchlight, running dental checks and fingerprint scans, all with a grim focus. When they finally confirmed his identity, Police Commissioner Daniel Levy made a point of honoring not just Gvili’s sacrifice, but the shared pain of the entire police force. “You are the DNA of who we are,” Levy said, apologizing that their best efforts weren’t enough to bring him home alive.

Families have been united at last, though at immeasurable cost. The overriding message from officialdom has been one of resolve: unity, remembrance, but above all, endurance.

Trump’s Abraham Accords, once hailed as the dawn of a transformed Middle East, are now being invoked again—less as a panacea, more as a foundation on which to build. “It’s a new day in the Middle East,” Witkoff insisted, sounding both hopeful and vaguely defensive. There are grand visions of peace and prosperity for the region, but the lived history is rarely so neat.

So is this a turning point? Perhaps. But conversations on the ground, in Tel Aviv cafes and Gaza’s battered neighborhoods alike, reveal deep skepticism. The job of bringing everyone home is done, yes. The even harder work—creating a future where such homecomings aren’t necessary—remains, for now, unfinished business. Peace, as always in this corner of the world, comes one halting step at a time.

If there’s a singular face to the gnawing pain Israel has endured since October 2023, it was surely Ran Gvili’s family—at least, until this week. It’s not often that an entire nation pauses for one return, but Gvili’s was different. He was just 24, a kid by most standards, yet old enough that when October 7 shattered a quiet morning, he ignored a fractured collarbone and dove straight back into danger with his unit. His father, Itzik, trailed behind the draped coffin, voice unsteady, recalling how he’d begged him to stay home. “You dummy, you could have rested,” he chided, not without pride. “‘Dad,’ you told me—‘I’m not leaving my friends.’” There’s nothing tidy about a homecoming like this: closure and grief get tangled.With Gvili’s return, both the living and the lost hostages are now accounted for. On paper, that reads like a resolution. In reality, it feels more like reaching the end of a single, bruising chapter. When Steve Witkoff, the U.S. special envoy, called this the start of a “new day in the Middle East,” a few listeners might have bristled. But Witkoff wasn’t alone in crediting President Trump and his administration, who’d pushed hard behind the scenes. Trump made his presence unmistakably felt, taking to Truth Social for a round of self-congratulation that felt equally celebratory and calculated: “Just recovered the last hostage body in GAZA. Thus, got back ALL 20 of the living hostages, and ALL of the dead! AMAZING JOB!” he cheered. That post, in typical Trumpian fashion, left little room for understatement.The mood in Israel has been difficult to define. On the one hand, relief, yes—a sliver of pride flashed through in Gvili’s mother’s remarks, as she thanked everyone from the president to Jared Kushner, and, of course, the Israeli public who had not forgotten. Yet beneath that pride, there’s an ache that even celebration can’t quite smother. Has the wound closed? Maybe. But the scar, still fresh, won’t vanish overnight.Prime Minister Netanyahu, speaking in the Knesset, gave one of his more candid nods to American support: “No American president has ever done more for Israel. It ain’t even close.” The streets saw something rare when Witkoff and Trump appeared for the return of the rescued hostages: onlookers cheered. It was as if the country was momentarily unified not just in relief, but in gratitude. Those moments will linger, probably more in memory than in the day-to-day grind of politics.Yet, as expected, the sense of finality is elusive. The specter of Hamas remains—an inescapable shadow over everything. Now, with rumors swirling around Hamas’s push to get 10,000 of their own police officers folded into whatever authority governs Gaza next, skepticism among Israeli politicians and the public is practically a given. “You can’t trust these people. They. Just. Can’t. Be. Trusted,” wrote one commentator—not mincing words, but certainly channeling the popular mood. And there’s the rawness: October 7 still burns hot in the national psyche, making compromise a non-starter for most.The effort that led to Gvili’s recovery was painstaking—Israeli teams combed cemeteries, working by torchlight, running dental checks and fingerprint scans, all with a grim focus. When they finally confirmed his identity, Police Commissioner Daniel Levy made a point of honoring not just Gvili’s sacrifice, but the shared pain of the entire police force. “You are the DNA of who we are,” Levy said, apologizing that their best efforts weren’t enough to bring him home alive.Families have been united at last, though at immeasurable cost. The overriding message from officialdom has been one of resolve: unity, remembrance, but above all, endurance.Trump’s Abraham Accords, once hailed as the dawn of a transformed Middle East, are now being invoked again—less as a panacea, more as a foundation on which to build. “It’s a new day in the Middle East,” Witkoff insisted, sounding both hopeful and vaguely defensive. There are grand visions of peace and prosperity for the region, but the lived history is rarely so neat.So is this a turning point? Perhaps. But conversations on the ground, in Tel Aviv cafes and Gaza’s battered neighborhoods alike, reveal deep skepticism. The job of bringing everyone home is done, yes. The even harder work—creating a future where such homecomings aren’t necessary—remains, for now, unfinished business. Peace, as always in this corner of the world, comes one halting step at a time.