By Andrew Adler
Community Editor
This is a column about hope.
I was going to write about something else entirely this month until a few days ago on Tuesday, Aug. 27, when news broke that IDF soldiers had rescued a Hamas-held hostage from Gaza, alive and by current accounts, reasonably well.
The now-former hostage in question is Qaid Farhan al-Qadi, a 52-year-old Israeli Arab of Bedouin heritage. Nobody had heard from him or about his condition since his abduction, along with so many others, on Oct. 7.
Circumstances of his rescue are not entirely clear. First reports out of Israel was that members of the IDF’s elite Sayeret Matkal commando unit, acting on relevant intelligence, extracted him from one of Hamas’s still-numerous tunnels, rushed him into a waiting helicopter and flew him back to Israel (you can view IDF bodycam video of that final segment on numerous online platforms).
Not long after the IDF’s initial announcement, the New York Times ran a story – quoting two unnamed senior Israeli sources – saying that what transpired was actually a miracle by chance: a naval commando unit, while seeking out Hamas fighters, happened upon al-Qadi alone in a room about 75 feet underground. Somehow he’d eluded his guards and found temporary sanctuary in this space. One can only imagine his eventual fate had fate itself not intervened.
Absorbing as this bit of narrative certainly is, what struck me most powerfully was that al-Qadi was Arab. We tend to think of Israel only in terms of its Jewish population, but in fact it is a decidedly multi-ethnic citizenry. Three-quarters Jewish, yes, one-fifth Arab, plus a smattering of Christians and Druze, some Circassians, and others.
I mention this not solely in the name of demographic comprehensiveness, but as a demonstration that on Oct. 7 Hamas didn’t exempt anyone from its murderous rampage. If a person was human, they were shot, incinerated, or abducted into Gaza. It was an exemplar of equal-opportunity horror.
Al-Qadi was among numerous Arabs who make their living working in Jewish enclaves close to the border with Gaza. On Oct. 7 he was working as a guard – unarmed, yet – on a kibbutz. His crime in the eyes of Hamas? Breathing.
The proximity of Arabs and Jews in Israel has always fascinated me. Of course there are inequities, sometimes, substantial ones. But the balance of cultures reflects a duality that can be, when it works, truly edifying. Certainly in our Partnershop2Gether Western Galilee region – situated in the now hyper-precarious area of northern Israel – it’s routine for Israelis to shop in Arab villages, and Arabs in Israeli villages.
On Oct. 7 Farhan al-Qadi was simply doing his job, a job that happened to be protecting fellow Israelis. By Oct. 8 he’d exchanged that job, his family, his friends, people he’d known and people he never met, for 10 months trapped underground. There his Hamas captors fed him just enough to keep him alive. Nobody said, ‘He’s Arab, not Jewish, release him.’ His value as a human bargaining chip, as it is for his fellow hostages – alive or dead – trumps all other considerations.
Al-Qadi’s rescue was an infusion of glad narrative amid an otherwise bleak landscape of despair and death. His family, as they should, is rejoicing in his emergence from blackness. “It’s better than being born again,” his brother has said.
There’s a photo, provided by Soroka Medical Center in the southern Israeli city of Beersheba, that I find particularly telling. In it al-Qadi lies in his hospital bed, a smile crossing his lips. Holding his hand is a man wearing a taqiyah, the traditional Muslim skullcap. Looking on is a physician. He’s wearing a kippah.
As this is an authorized hospital photo, I suppose it’s possible the image was posed. I really don’t care. It’s the visual juxtaposition of faiths that I care about: Arab man in Jewish hospital, his family nearby.
Meanwhile, the dreary sequence of meetings in Qatar goes on, more or less. From one day to the next, prospects for a ceasefire and release of at least some of the remaining hostages lurches from one extreme to the other: a dance where the partners despise each other.
At least Farhan al-Qadi has regained the literal light of freedom. I wonder if he’s been told yet that 17 of his fellow Bedouins died on Oct. 7?
For the moment, anyway, let wonder and joy carry the day. And for the families who still count members among the remaining hostages, let al-Qadi’s rescue provide a glimmer of new-found hope.
“They are still waiting to see their loved ones back today,” his brother Khatem al-Qadi said when interviewed by Israeli television, as quoted by The Times. “We are wishing for all the hostages to be released and for there to be a deal now.”
Andrew Adler is Managing Editor of Community.