“I’m not a victim. I chose this. As bad as it is, it’s also been the greatest experience of my life – nearly dying, then being alive again. Now everything has more strength to it, life is more powerful.”
The 32-year-old’s war story began on the morning of October 7. His three brothers were at the Nova festival when news broke that terrorists had breached the border. As he left his home in Tel Aviv, where he works as a startup founder, Deri faced the toughest decision of his life: head to Kibbutz Be’eri with his unit or search for his brothers. Understanding the existential threat facing Israel, he followed orders and entered the besieged kibbutz.
Gary Manhine[Missing Credit]
The battle on Route 232 raged all morning as Deri’s unit tried desperately to enter the kibbutz. By midday, his unit had lost several vehicles and soldiers, and they pushed into Be’eri where the fighting continued into the night.
“We fought hundreds of terrorists, moving from house to house. We suffered heavy losses. We tried to save as many families as we could – sometimes we succeeded, sometimes we didn’t.”
Before October 7, Deri’s military service from 2011 to 2017 had largely involved intelligence work for an elite unit. He had never shot anyone. Now, his body bears the scars of war, both inside and out.
“I’d never seen death like that before.”
One of Deri’s close friends, David Meir, died in his arms that day. The fellow reservist left behind a wife and a seven-month-old baby.
Deri continues to grapple with the trauma. “I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD. Dealing with this has become my life’s fight.”
He hasn’t yet been able to speak with the families of those who died alongside him, nor those he saved at Be’eri. “I’ve stayed away because I don’t think I’m ready.”
After October 7, Deri threw himself into more missions – a way to cope with the horror of that day. He was part of rescue operations in Gaza, including the release of American hostages Judith and Natalie Raanan.
During that mission, Deri found himself face-to-face with the Hamas terrorists he had encountered at Be’eri.
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Barak Deri before the war[Missing Credit]
“It was surreal. There we were, armed, staring at them, armed, and yet we couldn’t shoot. It was a standoff, and then we took the hostages from the Red Cross and brought them back into Israeli territory.”
Since then, Deri has also provided food and water to civilians in Gaza, navigating the IDF’s strict rules of engagement.
When asked about reports of IDF soldiers shooting at civilians, Deri was firm: “As an IDF officer, if I shoot, I would be investigated and could go to jail. Yes, there are bad apples. Some are in jail now. But the system works to differentiate between Hamas fighters and civilians – though it’s hard because Hamas uses civilian areas to hide. I saw weapons in Shifa Hospital. The hospital manager had an AK-47 in his office, and there were tunnels just outside leading beneath the building.”
This complex reality is something Deri constantly wrestles with. Before the war, the soldier, who grew up in Western Galilee and is of Moroccan origin, had friends in Gaza. While completing his MBA at Northwestern University in Chicago, in collaboration with Tel Aviv University, he studied alongside Gazans who crossed the border regularly to study and even travelled with them to the US. Yet, on the day of the massacre, as he fought for his life at Be’eri, those same friends posted on social media, openly supporting the attack.
Still, he remains willing to extend a hand to those friends who now live in Ramallah and Germany.
“If I could talk to them again, as friends, that would be a win. It would show them that it’s time to stop clinging to this victim mentality and stand with us for the betterment of their people.”
Despite the horrors of war, the veteran refuses to lose hope for peace in the Middle East.
“Any country that truly wants peace with Israel has it. I’ve seen it.”
Before wartime, he worked closely with young people from Abraham Accords countries, fostering connections between young Arabs and Israelis. And while he’s acutely aware of polls showing widespread Palestinian support for Hamas, Deri remains optimistic.
“I know most aren’t innocent,” he acknowledges, “but I still hope for peace – between Iranians, Lebanese, Palestinians, and, God willing, us Israelis.”
The war has left him physically broken and his battle scars tell a story of pain and loss, but also one of survival. His three brothers survived Nova and he survived Be’eri and Gaza.
“I’m going to be disabled for the rest of my life. I’ll never return to my special operations unit. But this – telling my story, travelling to raise awareness – this is where I can make a real difference.”
Barak Deri may never hold a rifle again, but through his words, he’s still fighting for something greater – a future where peace remains possible.
