Tel Aviv comes to life. But in the "hostage square", they lie in each other's arms crying (stern+)

The three young men are bare-chested and unarmed when they are hit by Israeli military bullets in the street. One of them was still attaching a white piece of cloth to the end of a stick, the sign of peace in times of war. But a few dozen meters away, a few floors above them, in the vantage point of a building in the Shejaiya district of Gaza City, a soldier senses a trap. He opens fire. Two of the men immediately collapse, the third saves himself in the building entrance from which they had just emerged. The Israeli commander in charge orders them to cease fire. His unit approaches and hears cries for help in Hebrew. Suddenly the third man rushes back outside, then back inside. The soldiers pursue and kill him. A short time later, they realize that they have just accidentally shot their own countrymen. People they were supposed to save. Jotam Haim, 28, heavy metal drummer in the band Persephore. Samer El-Talalka, 25, who was supposed to get married next summer and had already started building a house. And Alon Lulu Shamriz, 26, who traveled to South America last year, loved playing basketball and started studying computer technology.

The hostages waved a white flag

Three Israeli hostages who seem to have somehow escaped the clutches of Hamas. And who died on Friday because two soldiers disregarded the rules of engagement. This is how the Israeli military (IDF) itself put it, following initial investigations. "All of Israel is mourning tonight," said Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in the night after the terrible news. But Israel is not only mourning. Israel is increasingly angry. Especially that part of the country that has connections to the 129 hostages still abducted by Hamas. For their families, the death of the three Israeli men is proof that Netanyahu is failing. That he is not doing everything in his power to get their loved ones out of Gaza. That killing terrorists is more important than the lives of Israelis. On Saturday, the day after the tragedy of Shejaiya, 24-year-old Ofir Weinberg waits for Steffen Seibert in Tel Aviv 's Museum Square. The German ambassador is here to meet three hostage families of German origin. Weinberg's gaze wanders through the crowds. As every day, thousands have gathered to commemorate the kidnapped, the dead and the living. Only Seibert is still waiting.

Hostages killed - Tel Aviv comes to life. But on the "Hostage Square" they lie in each other's arms crying

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register here Then comes the ambassador. "Steffen," he introduces himself. A handshake, a pat on the shoulder. Seibert puts his head to one side and listens. Weinberg, a petite woman, talks about her missing cousin Itai Shiritz. His mother was shot dead in front of him on October 7. His father did not survive either. He himself, with a bullet wound to his arm, is now in the Gaza war zone for the 71st day. He urgently needs medicine.

Negotiations between Israel and Hamas are at a standstill

"We are doing everything in our power," promises the ambassador. Sad music plays from the stage, Seibert's eyes become moist. As he takes a souvenir photo, he looks down to the ground, embarrassed. Then he takes his leave. During his later speech to the crowd, he will say in fluent Hebrew: "I admire the strength of the hostage families." The families remain strong. But do the politicians do the same, whether at Netanyahu's cabinet table or on the international stage? Since the end of the ceasefire, the end of the prisoner deal between Israel and Hamas around three weeks ago, negotiations between the warring parties have been at a standstill. The only hostages released from Gaza since then have been in body bags. "Our government is not acting. That's why I'm here almost every day," says Ofir Weinberg. "Freeing the hostages militarily is not an option. It's too risky. Then they come back dead." Her voice trembles. She exhales deeply. At first, she says, she didn't know whether Itai was among the three people killed. Because hostages who were with her cousin and are now free have told her: The terrorists put their own clothes on the kidnapped men. They trim their beards as they would do themselves. They turn them into Hamas doubles. "They told us that their greatest fear was being killed by the IDF because they are not recognizable as Israelis," says Weinberg. This fear became reality this Friday. Some hostage families are now threatening to go on hunger strike if Netanyahu does not finally come up with a detailed plan to free their relatives. Weinberg is also toying with the idea: "We are thinking about various actions to keep up the pressure. People are starting to look away and close their ears."

Almost three months after the Hamas massacre, life is returning to Tel Aviv

While she is saying this and people are crying in each other's arms on Museum Square, the rest of Tel Aviv is slowly beginning to pulsate again. Not for a long time like the carefree summer days before October 7. But in the third month after the massacre, the Mediterranean metropolis seems to have become accustomed to the state of war. A man with an assault rifle dangling from his thigh while riding an e-scooter? Just as much a part of the cityscape as the heavily armed female soldier in olive green on the order board of a fast food restaurant. The air raid siren no longer blares through the palm-lined streets three times a day, but rather once a week. The crowds of journalists have flown home again. A CNN man smugly says at the counter of a cocktail bar that "only 20 or 30" of his station are still here. In Mike's Place - a bar on the beach promenade where a suicide bomber blew himself up in 2003 - a singer croons "Don't stop me now!" by Queen into a standing microphone while four Israeli boys suck on a joint outside on the terrace. Life goes on. Somehow. But Ofir Weinberg says: "I can't go back to my old life. There is no daily routine for me. I don't forget. Not for a second." She no longer works. She has put her business management studies on hold. "All I do is be part of this fight," she says. This fight has taken her halfway around the world. She has been to Paris, The Hague and Los Angeles. She has met Olaf Scholz in Berlin, Markus Söder during his visit to Israel and now Seibert.

Can there ever be peace in the Middle East?

She now expects the same diplomatic efforts from Netanyahu and his Western allies, including Germany, as her mother once emigrated to Israel from Wiesbaden. "The most effective way to get the hostages back is through negotiations," she says, "but Israel can't do it alone. It needs international support to put pressure on Hamas." Is it really that simple? Will pressure from the hostage families be followed by pressure from the West? Will the tragic fate of three of the hundreds of hostages be followed by a rethink on the part of the Israeli leadership? And then a new deal, silent weapons, peace at some point? The US government, Netanyahu's closest ally, has been increasing the volume of its criticism of the destructive IDF ground offensive in Gaza, which has left thousands of civilians dead. But suddenly there is also talk of a new hostage agreement. David Barnea, director of the Israeli secret service Mossad, is to meet Mohammed ben Abdelrahmane Al-Thani, the Qatari head of government who brokered the first ceasefire, at a secret location in Europe over the course of the weekend.

"SOS" was spray-painted on a house wall

Netanyahu said that lessons had to be learned from the incident on Friday. He probably meant this primarily in military terms, not in general. The IDF now has a new operational protocol. It has been passed on to all ground troops in Gaza. The fact that hostages could walk freely through a war zone without their Hamas tormentors had apparently not been considered in advance. Two days before the deaths of Jotam Haim, Samer El-Talalka and Alon Lulu Shamriz, IDF soldiers found two messages spray-painted on walls a few hundred meters away: "SOS", it said in English. "Help, three hostages", in Hebrew. A connection is still being investigated.

Read also:

In response to the incident, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu expressed his condolences and stated that lessons need to be learned from the tragic event.
During his meeting with Steffen Seibert, Ofir Weinberg, whose cousin is still being held hostage by Hamas, urged the German ambassador to put pressure on Israel's leadership to negotiate a ceasefire and secure the release of the hostages.
Nevertheless, the Israeli military and Hamas remain locked in a standstill, with negotiations failing to yield progress and only hostages killed since the end of the ceasefire being returned in body bags.
As the situation in Gaza continues, Jotam Haim, a heavy metal drummer, Samer El-Talalka, who was due to get married next summer, and Alon Lulu Shamriz, a basketball-loving computer technology student, have become tragic symbols of the ongoing conflict between Israel and Hamas, with their deaths serving as a reminder of the human cost of the conflict.

Source: www.stern.de