International Women’s Day (IWD), celebrated each year on March 8, began in 1911, came under the auspices of the United Nations in 1975 and since 1996 has been given an annual theme. This year’s theme is “Accelerate Action”. For readers of this newspaper these words might hold a certain irony. In the aftermath of October 7, UN Women, the world’s largest women’s humanitarian organisation, an entity set up to fight gender-based violence, had nothing to say about the atrocities committed against Israeli women and girls that day.
It then took seven whole weeks of lobbying by Israeli feminist groups for the UN Women’s executive director Sima Sami Bahous to even acknowledge the depravity, the sexualised torture, women and girls suffered in the Jewish state on October 7. Accelerated action, UN Women? Stubborn inertia, more like.
This IWD we acknowledge the tireless work of those Israeli women’s rights groups to force the UN to acknowledge the barbarism of the day Israelis now call Black Shabbat. And we also pay tribute to the Jewish mothers, daughters, sisters, aunts, wives and girlfriends who have become such prominent advocates for the hostage families. Between them, these courageous women, whose names were entirely unknown before October 7, have met world leaders and spoken at the United Nations, appealed to the International Red Cross, travelled to the US to petition Donald Trump, pressured the Israeli government to strike a deal, written articles for the world’s most influential newspapers, and appeared on television all over the globe. Every day since Black Shabbat these women have kept their families’ stories alive and called out the world’s silence in the face of the deadliest day for Jews since the Shoah. Here, we profile five of them.
From a hostage trapped in Gaza to a campaigner on the world’s stage, the recent trajectory of Noa Argamani’s life has been extraordinary.
Her face became instantly famous when video images of her yelling “Don’t kill me!” as she was kidnapped from the Nova festival on a motorbike were beamed across the world. In a miracle operation, the 26-year-old was one of the four hostages liberated from Nuseirat on June 8 after 245 days in hell.
Since then, she hasn’t stopped campaigning for the release of fellow Israelis, especially her boyfriend Avinatan Or, who was also snatched from the festival.
I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe – I thought it was going to be the last seconds of my life. Being here with you today is a miracle
In August, she travelled to Tokyo to meet leaders of the G7 and told them of the physical abuse she suffered in captivity. “Avinatan, my boyfriend, is still there, and we need to bring them back before it’s going to be too late. We don’t want to lose more people than we have already lost,” she said. On her return to Israel, Argamani attracted controversy when she hosted a “return to life” party. She was heavily criticised for raving in a time of war, as pictures circulated of her dancing in a bikini and shades atop a friend’s shoulders.
But many found Argamani’s unapologetic zest for life empowering. Arguably, she spoke for the nation when she told the raving crowd of the collective need “to celebrate every moment that we’re here”. And no one can argue that Argamani hasn’t dedicated her all to advocacy. In December, she spoke at an emergency conference at President’s Isaac Herzog’s Jerusalem residence about the medical condition of Israeli hostages in the Gaza Strip. In January, she travelled to the US to petition Trump’s new administration to uphold the fragile ceasefire deal through all three phases.
Last week, Argamani made history as the first former hostage to address the UN Security Council. She recounted to the 15-member body how she didn’t receive any medical treatment from Hamas after the house she was kept in by the terror group blew up and she was trapped in the rubble. “I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe – I thought it was going to be the last seconds of my life,” she said. “Being here with you today is a miracle.”
I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe – I thought it was going to be the last seconds of my life. Being here with you today is a miracle
Mandy Damari, the mother of Emily Damari – the last British hostage held in Gaza – endured 11 agonising days before learning whether her daughter was still alive after her abduction from Kibbutz Kfar Aza on October 7.
Determined to secure her release, Damari launched a relentless global campaign. She met with world leaders, and the United Nations, and twice appealed directly to the president of the International Red Cross in Geneva, demanding action for the hostages.
Try to picture what she is going through. Imagine if Emily was your daughter
At every step, she ensured Emily’s plight remained in the public eye.
After a year of tireless efforts behind the scenes, Damari took to the stage at an event in London’s Hyde Park marking the first anniversary of the Hamas attack. Speaking before tens of thousands, she urged: “Try to picture what she is going through. Imagine if Emily was your daughter.”
Frustrated by the lack of media coverage, she criticised the British press for largely ignoring her daughter’s story. “No one here mentions that a female British hostage has been held captive by Hamas for a year now. I sometimes wonder if people even know there is a British woman there.”
She also took a firm stand against the UK government’s actions. In December, she told the prime minister and foreign secretary at a Labour Friends of Israel event that Britain’s UN vote for an unconditional ceasefire “broke my heart” and feared it would hurt the chances of her daughter’s return. She condemned the UK’s continued funding of the UN Relief and Works Agency (Unrwa) after revelations that some of its staff had taken part in the October 7 attacks.
After 471 days in captivity, Emily was freed on January 19 and the mother and daughter were reunited. Damari later revealed that Emily had been held in an Unrwa facility – her earlier fears about UK funding to the group were confirmed. Emily had been shot in the hand during her abduction and lost two fingers. Upon her release, she made a defiant gesture – one that has since appeared on stickers and posters worldwide.
“Emily Damari is an icon of resilience in Israel,” wrote JC columnist Hen Mazzig. But so is her mother.
Rachel Goldberg-Polin – the mother of hostage Hersh Goldberg-Polin, who was murdered by Hamas last year at the age of 23 – quit her job the day her son was kidnapped on October 7. Since that day, when Goldberg-Polin paused the rest of her life to begin tirelessly campaigning for the release of the hostages from Gaza and the safe return of her son, she has become a beacon of resilience and strength for Jews around the world.
Hersh is a happy-go-lucky, laid-back, good-humored, respectful and curious person. He loves soccer, is wild about music
Goldberg-Polin, formerly from Chicago and now living in Israel, and her husband Jonathan Polin began speaking out on behalf of the hostages, raising awareness of their plight via meetings with political authorities including the then US President Joe Biden as well as interviews with global media organisations including the BBC, CBS, and The Wall Street Journal. The pair drew attention to the crisis on a daily basis by taping to their shirts the number of days that passed since October 7. In August, Goldberg and her husband even spoke at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, an event televised globally, to publicise the hostage crisis and speak about their son.
“Hersh is a happy-go-lucky, laid-back, good-humoured, respectful and curious person,” Goldberg-Polin said. “He is a civilian. He loves soccer, is wild about music and music festivals, and he has been obsessed with geography and travel since he was a little boy.” She continually pressured the Israeli government to strike a deal for the hostages’ release, accusing Israeli officials of failing to do enough to secure their safety and bring the remaining hostages home.
Her fierce empathy for both the hostages and their families did not end when Hersh’s body was brought back; in her eulogy at his funeral, she prayed that her son’s death “will be a turning point in this horrible situation in which we are all entangled”.
Goldberg-Polin wrote in a letter published by the Times of Israel in November, two months after Hersh died: “I think our challenge as we limp forward toward the light, as we rise from the ashes that are still smouldering (and our cherished 101* hostages in Gaza, still languishing there as of this writing) is re-learning how to listen... As I have said since October 7, 2023, hope is still mandatory. And so of course I hope and pray we use all of our creative and godly resources to succeed. We must.”
*As of now, there are 61 hostages still in Gaza.
As a daughter, Sharone Lifschitz went through the unimaginable on October 7.
Her beloved activist parents – 83-year-old Oded Lifshitz and 85-year-old Yocheved, who throughout their 63 years of marriage campaigned for peace between Israel and the Palestinians, were abducted from Kibbutz Nir Oz.
Her mother was mercifully released after 18 days, but Oded, the retired journalist who drove sick Palestinians to hospitals in Israel for treatment, perished in captivity. His body was returned to Israel alongside the Bibas family on February 21.
Throughout his time in captivity, his only daughter Sharone – an award-winning artist and filmmaker based in Walthamstow, London – campaigned for his release, all the while continuing to spread his message of mutual respect and dialogue in the Middle East.
“He did not deserve [this], he spent a lifetime trying to avert the outcomes of not reaching long-term agreements,” she told ITV in September 2024. “He fought for peace, he fought for the importance of seeing the human on both sides.”
He did not deserve this, he spent a lifetime trying to avert the outcomes of not reaching long-term agreements
She told the world about her father, an Arabic speaker active in the Peace Now movement who spent his life advocating for a two-state solution. Throughout her fight to secure his and the other hostages’ freedom, Lifschitz carried the flame of his lifelong mission for prosperity in the Middle East. “Through our pain and suffering, we must find the shared humanity that can form the basis for the hostages’ safe return, coexistence and lasting peace in the region,” she wrote for the Guardian, in 2024.
The artist also hasn’t shied away from criticising the Israeli government for not, as she saw it, prioritising the plight of the hostages. “This is a tragedy in itself, to have a leader like this,” she said of Benjamin Netanyahu to the Times of Israel. And when a ceasefire was announced on January 15, she spoke to Channel 4 about her frustration with former Israeli minister Ben Gvir, who had been open about his opposition to the deal. “It’s time for a ceasefire. It’s time to withdraw from Gaza. It’s time to alleviate the suffering on both sides,” she said.
At his funeral in Nir Oz, Lifschitz quoted words that her father had written. “I am not regretful for a moment; I feel satisfaction and pride,” she read. “I have aspired to follow in the enlightened path of prophets of morality and social justice.”
Ofri Bibas Levy, the sister of Yarden Bibas and aunt to Ariel and Kfir, used every platform available to keep her family’s story alive and call out the world’s silence. In a CNN article, she challenged the global indifference, asking: “Why have the mothers and fathers of the world forgotten about the child hostages?
“What if Ariel and Kfir were your children, your nephews?” she wrote about her family who were brutally kidnapped from Kibbutz Nir Oz.
Yarden returned home last month, but not to his nuclear family. Speaking to Israeli media, Bibas Levy shared her heartbreak: “My brother returned, but my sister-in-law and nephews have not. Yarden asks about them, and I have no answers for him.”
Her worst fears were realised when Shiri, Ariel and Kfir were returned to Israel in coffins.
At their funeral, Bibas Levy said: “For 16 months, I’ve been speaking about you everywhere.
“It always hurt and intensified the longing, but talking about you also kept you present, alive. How can it be that you are no longer here?”
She grieved for the future stolen from them – the Shabbat picnics with Shiri, watching her children grow up alongside their flame-haired cousins and handing down clothes.
She mourned the lost time with Kfir, who was only nine months old when he was taken. “I didn’t even get to buy you a gift for your first birthday,” she said.
Why have the mothers and fathers of the world forgotten the child hostages? What if Ariel and Kfir were your children, your nephews?
Her nephews remain with her in everyday moments. “Every time I see a Batman costume or hear a baby laugh, I think of you. And that’s how I want to remember you: happy, laughing.”
Shiri Bibas and her children were buried in a single casket next to the final resting place of her parents.
At the funeral, their grief-stricken aunt said: “Luli and Firfir, the world came to know you in the most tragic way, but I promise we will do everything so that your memory will be one of innocence, love, and goodness – exactly as Mom Shiri and Dad Yarden raised you.”