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This transcript was created using speech recognition software. While it has been reviewed by human transcribers, it may contain errors. Please review the episode audio before quoting from this transcript and email transcripts@nytimes.com with any questions.
I’m Sarah Wildman. I’m an editor and writer at New York Times Opinion.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Soon after the attacks in Israel on October 7, I started seeking voices who could speak to the hostage crisis, both what it meant to Israel and to the families themselves. I first connected with Rachel Goldberg just a few days after the 7th.
Every single person in Gaza, whether you’re in Hamas or you’re not in Hamas, has a mother or had a mother at some point. And I would think, as mother to mother, if you see Hersh, please help him.
Her son, 23-year-old Hersh, was taken captive by Hamas, fleeing the music festival in southern Israel. Rachel told me her son’s arm was blown off during the attack. In the week since we first spoke, there was a brief pause in fighting.
Eight more hostages are back with their loved ones tonight.
More than 100 hostages were released from Gaza, mostly women and children.
Last minute tense negotiations allowed for a seventh day of this temporary ceasefire.
As fighting in Gaza restarted, hostage negotiations stalled. I wanted to understand where that leaves family members of those remaining in captivity.
Hi, Rachel. I’m sorry to be seeing you under these circumstances again.
You know, me, too.
I see you have a number 59 on your shirt.
Indeed. That is the 59 days since my son was stolen from me and from his life, and 59 days that he has been in captivity in Gaza.
I want to take us to that moment when the pause in conflict happened. What did you think, and what did you feel at that moment?
Oh, well, we were thrilled. And we had been told, this won’t be for someone like Hersh. This is going to be a pause that’s going to be to help release the children, the babies, the women, which we totally agreed with. And we even said, Hersh would want that. Hersh would agree with that. So it was actually, finally, this sliver of light and hope and breath and air in this world of indescribable — I keep thinking, I feel like English is such a descriptive, incredible language. And yet, there really isn’t a way to describe what we feel.
But there was this moment of delicious, thankful respite when we saw these children coming back to their parents. That was really wonderful. And we were so aware that deal was held together by the finest, most fragile of threads. We were so hopeful, but we find ourselves back in this very scary situation.
You mentioned that you understood that women and children would be first, that even Hersh would want women and children to come out. But was there a push to see if the gravely wounded would be next?
Yeah, so we now have brought that up. We’ve said we know that there are a bunch of gravely wounded or, like in Hersh’s case, maimed, disabled. So we have brought up to all the different entities that are sitting at those tables, can you at least categorize those people together, meaning it could be an 18-year-old to an 80-year-old. I don’t know if it’s 20 of them or 50 of them, but can they be a group that is considered together because for some of them, I think that it is a question of life or death that they’re hanging on by a thread.
Now that fighting has resumed, where does that leave you? What are you advocating for?
It wasn’t shocking that things fell apart. It was disappointing and crushing and, obviously, terrifying to know that he’s in a very, very, very vulnerable state. And then knowing that he’s in a war zone, on top of everything, is very terrifying. And of course, as I’ve said from the very beginning, I feel for all of these innocent Gazan civilians who are in the middle of a war zone. So my heart goes out to everybody who’s there. I’m also going on 60 days now, 60 days, of being in an eternal state of fright and terror.
How do you sustain yourself?
I have no idea. I literally have no clue how I am able to function. I have zero idea how this is happening. It’s actually making me have a renewed faith in the capacity of the human psyche to go on. For me, it feels like a complete bifurcation of what that terror and trauma and anguish that I am in constant state of, constant. There’s never a moment where I don’t feel terror.
And then on the other hand, I’d have to act like a normal person. I have other children. I have to speak to the press, speak to diplomats, speak to ambassadors, speak to presidents, speak to the Pope, speak to other people who can possibly help save his life. And I have to be a human being in order to do that. It’s just a survival tactic of the only way I can save his life is if I keep going. So I must keep going.
Is there something you want specifically from the Israeli government right now?
Hmm. I don’t really know. I don’t think there are any mothers in those rooms where anything’s being decided. I feel like what has been yielded for years and years from these rooms full of men making these decisions, I don’t think it’s always been a failure, but I think that it hasn’t been as creative or insightful as it could have been. And I think it might be time to try on doing something a little bit different.
When I was little, there was some Take Your Kid to Work Day at my mom’s office. You know what might be nice tomorrow is, what if instead of Take Your Kid to Work Day, it was Send Your Mom in Place of You Day in the war cabinet, instead of these men. And I don’t mean bring your mom to work. I mean, you stay home and just send moms.
And I’m very self-aware. I have no experience, but I do think that there’s something about being a mother, having something grow inside of you for a really long time, and then this thing comes out of you through tremendous effort and labor and work and love, and there’s an attachment there that you’re always going to have.
And Hersh changed who I am in the world because before him, I was a person. And after Hersh, I was a mother. And even though I’ve had children after Hersh, Hersh was the one that changed me from being Rachel to being mother. Hersh just turned 23, and he is a young man, but he will always be my child.
Thanks, Rachel.
Thank you.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
transcript
This transcript was created using speech recognition software. While it has been reviewed by human transcribers, it may contain errors. Please review the episode audio before quoting from this transcript and email transcripts@nytimes.com with any questions.
I’m Sarah Wildman. I’m an editor and writer at New York Times Opinion.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Soon after the attacks in Israel on October 7, I started seeking voices who could speak to the hostage crisis, both what it meant to Israel and to the families themselves. I first connected with Rachel Goldberg just a few days after the 7th.
Every single person in Gaza, whether you’re in Hamas or you’re not in Hamas, has a mother or had a mother at some point. And I would think, as mother to mother, if you see Hersh, please help him.
Her son, 23-year-old Hersh, was taken captive by Hamas, fleeing the music festival in southern Israel. Rachel told me her son’s arm was blown off during the attack. In the week since we first spoke, there was a brief pause in fighting.
Eight more hostages are back with their loved ones tonight.
More than 100 hostages were released from Gaza, mostly women and children.
Last minute tense negotiations allowed for a seventh day of this temporary ceasefire.
As fighting in Gaza restarted, hostage negotiations stalled. I wanted to understand where that leaves family members of those remaining in captivity.
Hi, Rachel. I’m sorry to be seeing you under these circumstances again.
You know, me, too.
I see you have a number 59 on your shirt.
Indeed. That is the 59 days since my son was stolen from me and from his life, and 59 days that he has been in captivity in Gaza.
I want to take us to that moment when the pause in conflict happened. What did you think, and what did you feel at that moment?
Oh, well, we were thrilled. And we had been told, this won’t be for someone like Hersh. This is going to be a pause that’s going to be to help release the children, the babies, the women, which we totally agreed with. And we even said, Hersh would want that. Hersh would agree with that. So it was actually, finally, this sliver of light and hope and breath and air in this world of indescribable — I keep thinking, I feel like English is such a descriptive, incredible language. And yet, there really isn’t a way to describe what we feel.
But there was this moment of delicious, thankful respite when we saw these children coming back to their parents. That was really wonderful. And we were so aware that deal was held together by the finest, most fragile of threads. We were so hopeful, but we find ourselves back in this very scary situation.
You mentioned that you understood that women and children would be first, that even Hersh would want women and children to come out. But was there a push to see if the gravely wounded would be next?
Yeah, so we now have brought that up. We’ve said we know that there are a bunch of gravely wounded or, like in Hersh’s case, maimed, disabled. So we have brought up to all the different entities that are sitting at those tables, can you at least categorize those people together, meaning it could be an 18-year-old to an 80-year-old. I don’t know if it’s 20 of them or 50 of them, but can they be a group that is considered together because for some of them, I think that it is a question of life or death that they’re hanging on by a thread.
Now that fighting has resumed, where does that leave you? What are you advocating for?
It wasn’t shocking that things fell apart. It was disappointing and crushing and, obviously, terrifying to know that he’s in a very, very, very vulnerable state. And then knowing that he’s in a war zone, on top of everything, is very terrifying. And of course, as I’ve said from the very beginning, I feel for all of these innocent Gazan civilians who are in the middle of a war zone. So my heart goes out to everybody who’s there. I’m also going on 60 days now, 60 days, of being in an eternal state of fright and terror.
How do you sustain yourself?
I have no idea. I literally have no clue how I am able to function. I have zero idea how this is happening. It’s actually making me have a renewed faith in the capacity of the human psyche to go on. For me, it feels like a complete bifurcation of what that terror and trauma and anguish that I am in constant state of, constant. There’s never a moment where I don’t feel terror.
And then on the other hand, I’d have to act like a normal person. I have other children. I have to speak to the press, speak to diplomats, speak to ambassadors, speak to presidents, speak to the Pope, speak to other people who can possibly help save his life. And I have to be a human being in order to do that. It’s just a survival tactic of the only way I can save his life is if I keep going. So I must keep going.
Is there something you want specifically from the Israeli government right now?
Hmm. I don’t really know. I don’t think there are any mothers in those rooms where anything’s being decided. I feel like what has been yielded for years and years from these rooms full of men making these decisions, I don’t think it’s always been a failure, but I think that it hasn’t been as creative or insightful as it could have been. And I think it might be time to try on doing something a little bit different.
When I was little, there was some Take Your Kid to Work Day at my mom’s office. You know what might be nice tomorrow is, what if instead of Take Your Kid to Work Day, it was Send Your Mom in Place of You Day in the war cabinet, instead of these men. And I don’t mean bring your mom to work. I mean, you stay home and just send moms.
And I’m very self-aware. I have no experience, but I do think that there’s something about being a mother, having something grow inside of you for a really long time, and then this thing comes out of you through tremendous effort and labor and work and love, and there’s an attachment there that you’re always going to have.
And Hersh changed who I am in the world because before him, I was a person. And after Hersh, I was a mother. And even though I’ve had children after Hersh, Hersh was the one that changed me from being Rachel to being mother. Hersh just turned 23, and he is a young man, but he will always be my child.
Thanks, Rachel.
Thank you.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
By Rachel Goldberg
Produced by Jillian Weinberger
Rachel Goldberg’s 23-year-old son, Hersh, was abducted by Hamas at a music festival in southern Israel on Oct. 7. In this interview with the Opinion editor Sarah Wildman, Ms. Goldberg reflects on the past two months of the crisis, the recent pause in fighting and the brief moments of “delicious, thankful respite” she felt as hostages returned home — even as her son remains captive. And she argues the hostage plight should be treated as a humanitarian crisis, not a political one.
The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.
Follow the New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, X and Threads.
This episode of “The Opinions” was produced by Jillian Weinberger. It was edited by Kaari Pitkin, Annie-Rose Strasser and Alison Bruzek. Mixing by Isaac Jones. Original music by Isaac Jones and Pat McCusker. Fact-checking by Mary Marge Locker. Audience strategy by Kristina Samulewski and Shannon Busta.
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