The return of the fallen soldier marks both a moment of grief and a turning point in Israel’s long war against Hamas.
For weeks, each return of a hostage’s body has been a national event in Israel. The funerals of young soldiers such as Omer Nutra and Itay Chen united the country in mourning and pride, with citizens lining the roads to their final resting places, flags in hand and tears in their throats.
But the return of Lieutenant Hadar Goldin is something different—something that reaches to the heart of Israel’s identity and its unbroken commitment to bring every soldier home.
For two years of relentless war, Israel has lived in a heightened emotional state, where every name, every funeral, every glimmer of hope reverberates across a nation so small and so tightly bound that no family has been spared. The collective pulse of the country beats as one—driven by grief, courage and the unyielding will to survive.
The return of Hadar’s remains marks more than closure for one family. It is a symbolic turning point in a war that must now enter its second phase—the disarmament of Hamas and the liberation of Gaza. Hamas clings to its terrorist vision, but the geopolitical landscape is shifting.
Turkey is out, Egypt is on standby, the Abraham Accords are expanding, and the United States now directs the humanitarian coordination mechanism, while U.S. President Donald Trump, impatient as ever, watches from the wings.
Goldin, 23, a luminous and smiling Givati Brigade soldier, the son of intellectuals, was taken in August 2014 during Operation Protective Edge. It happened just as a 72-hour ceasefire was to begin—Hamas broke it, ambushing Israeli soldiers in a tunnel. Three were killed. Hadar’s body was dragged into the darkness, disappearing into the underworld of Gaza. His comrades, following a trail of blood and debris, could not bring him back.
For more than 11 years, Hamas held his remains as a grotesque bargaining chip, part of its cruel commerce with death. The Goldin family’s struggle to bring him home transformed national consciousness.
Leah and Simcha Goldin, his parents, refused to let the word “body” define their son. They insisted on calling him “missing in action,” turning a personal tragedy into a living emblem of Israel’s sacred bond with its soldiers. Their battle was not only for Hadar—it was for the very principle that Israel leaves no one behind.
The Goldins’ lonely crusade became a precursor to today’s vast movement for the return of both living and fallen hostages. After Oct. 7, 2023, their cause resonated with every Israeli family—because any young soldier could have been Hadar. Their courage stood as a rebuke to the easy language of “ceasefire,” the illusion that peace can be bought with indifference. They always knew that bringing Hadar home would prove Israel’s strength, not its weakness.
Now, with Hadar’s return, the struggle of 4,118 days intertwines with a new geopolitical phase. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government, backed by Washington, moves forward on the twin tracks of hostage return and Hamas’s dismantlement.
Jared Kushner and American envoys have arrived to coordinate Israel’s plans with U.S. strategy. Rumors swirl that Hamas was paid a price for Hadar’s body, but if that exchange also included a step toward disarmament, then Israel may have turned a tragedy into a victory of principle.
The path remains long and difficult. Hamas will try to delay every step toward disarmament and reconstruction. But the coalition forming—from Israel to the United States, Saudi Arabia and Egypt—shares one goal: the neutralization of Hamas and the birth of a freer Gaza.
Hadar Goldin has come home at last. His parents’ tears and the nation’s salute merge into one truth—Israel’s faithfulness to its sons and daughters, alive or fallen.
This moment is not the end of grief, but a renewal of purpose. Israel mourns, remembers and returns to its work—with strength, unity and hope.