This year's Passover brings a somber atmosphere for many Israelis, as the hope for the return of hostages held by Palestinian militants remains unfulfilled. Families are struggling to celebrate the holiday that traditionally symbolizes liberation, instead choosing to honor the captives in their observances.
Amid Hostage Crisis, Passover Reflections in Israel: A Time of Grieving Not Celebration

Amid Hostage Crisis, Passover Reflections in Israel: A Time of Grieving Not Celebration
As Passover approaches, many Israelis reflect on the ongoing plight of hostages held in Gaza, overshadowing the usual festive spirit of the Jewish holiday.
The Jewish festival of Passover, a time traditionally filled with joy and the celebration of freedom, is clouded with sorrow this year for many Israelis. Following the Hamas-led attack on October 7, 2023, the ongoing hostage situation in Gaza has cast a long shadow over what should be a week of joyous gatherings and remembrance of liberation.
Yona Schnitzer, a marketing writer from Tel Aviv, expressed a profound sense of heartbreak as he recounted the special prayers he made last year during the Passover Seder for the hostages. With the holiday upon them again, he noted, “It’s become so normalized that there are hostages in Gaza. It’s surreal and heartbreaking.”
As families across Israel prepare to observe Passover, the palpable tension between the joyous elements of the holiday and the grim reality of captivity weighs heavily. Orly Gavishi-Sotto, a college administrator from northern Israel, articulates this tension keenly: "We will mark the holiday. We won’t celebrate it," she states. For her family, an empty chair at the Seder table will symbolize the absence of those still held captive, reinforcing the idea that true celebration will only come when all hostages are safely home.
While the Passover narrative traditionally celebrates the liberation of the ancient Israelites from slavery in Egypt, this year, for many, it’s now intertwined with the struggle and suffering of the hostages, turning what should be a festival of hope into a period of longing and reflection. As the sun sets and the Seder begins, the echoes of their absence will linger in the hearts and minds of those who yearn for their safe return.
Yona Schnitzer, a marketing writer from Tel Aviv, expressed a profound sense of heartbreak as he recounted the special prayers he made last year during the Passover Seder for the hostages. With the holiday upon them again, he noted, “It’s become so normalized that there are hostages in Gaza. It’s surreal and heartbreaking.”
As families across Israel prepare to observe Passover, the palpable tension between the joyous elements of the holiday and the grim reality of captivity weighs heavily. Orly Gavishi-Sotto, a college administrator from northern Israel, articulates this tension keenly: "We will mark the holiday. We won’t celebrate it," she states. For her family, an empty chair at the Seder table will symbolize the absence of those still held captive, reinforcing the idea that true celebration will only come when all hostages are safely home.
While the Passover narrative traditionally celebrates the liberation of the ancient Israelites from slavery in Egypt, this year, for many, it’s now intertwined with the struggle and suffering of the hostages, turning what should be a festival of hope into a period of longing and reflection. As the sun sets and the Seder begins, the echoes of their absence will linger in the hearts and minds of those who yearn for their safe return.