The Media Line: ‘To Bring Them Home Is Not Revenge, It’s Dignity’ 

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‘To Bring Them Home Is Not Revenge, It’s Dignity’ 

Two years after October 7, the families of Lior Rudaeff and Dror Or tell The Media Line that Israel’s true strength lies in humanity, not hate. 

By Gabriel Colodro/The Media Line 

Two years after Hamas’s assault on southern Israel, Nadav Rudaeff and Elad Or live in the same suspended reality: their loved ones were murdered on October 7, 2023, and their bodies were taken to Gaza, where they remain to this day. Both men speak of unbearable absence and of a moral duty that has outlasted the war itself. Rudaeff told The Media Line that hate can never be the answer, explaining, “Two years have passed, and my father’s body is still in Gaza. We live with the absence, but also with the belief that Israel must stay human, even when facing monsters.” 

Rudaeff’s father, Lior Rudaeff, 61, was a mechanic, volunteer medic, and member of Kibbutz Nir Yitzhak’s rapid-response team. When the first sirens sounded that morning, he grabbed his radio and weapon and ran toward the fighting. “He didn’t hesitate,” Nadav recalled. “That was my father—always running toward trouble, never away from it.” Lior was killed defending his community, and Hamas gunmen carried his body across the border. For weeks, the family hoped he might still be alive. “We believed for a long time that maybe he was being held,” Nadav said. “Then, when we were told he had been killed, the pain was unbearable—and it still is, because he’s not home.” 

The family has a memorial but no grave. “My mother can’t go to the cemetery because there’s no place to visit,” Nadav said quietly. “It’s like time froze that day.” For him, the struggle is no longer only personal but moral. He explained that families of those still in Gaza live in a kind of parallel world, one in which time has not moved forward. “You learn to live with the ache,” he said. “Every family that still waits—we live in a kind of parallel world. The war is over, but for us, it isn’t.” 

Rudaeff believes Hamas’s refusal to return the bodies is an act of deliberate cruelty. “They know exactly where he is,” he said. “If you told people anywhere else that terrorists took bodies and refused to return them, they would be outraged. But when it’s Jews, when it’s Israelis, the world stays silent.” He sees this silence as hypocrisy from those who speak of international law but fail to defend its most basic demand—human decency. “You can disagree with the war, you can criticize governments, that’s fine,” he said. “But how can you justify keeping bodies? It’s beyond politics. It’s cruelty.” 

Despite his anger, Rudaeff recognizes the importance of diplomatic pressure. “The Americans are pushing. President Trump and Secretary Rubio are demanding that Hamas return all the bodies. That gives us hope, because someone powerful is saying what Israel couldn’t say loudly enough.” He believes that only firm pressure can succeed. “Hamas reacts to strength,” he said. “That’s why the Trump plan worked—it forced them to accept the ceasefire and release the hostages. Now they have to be forced to return the dead too.” Yet he insists that justice must remain moral. “I don’t believe in revenge,” he said. “I believe in defense. I believe in protecting our people. But I also believe in not becoming like them. Hate is never the solution.” 

Lior’s humor and generosity, Nadav added, continue to guide the family. His father was known for finding light even in the darkest moments. “He used to make jokes even in the worst situations,” Nadav said with a faint smile. “He’d fix something or treat someone and then say, ‘At least the day wasn’t boring.’ That was him—sarcastic, kind, and brave.” For Nadav, true justice would simply mean being able to bring his father home. “To bury him here, with the flag and the people he loved,” he said. “Only then can we start to heal.” 

While Rudaeff speaks as a son, Elad Or carries the voice of a brother. His brother Dror Or, 48, was a cheesemaker, yoga instructor, and father of three from Kibbutz Be’eri. On October 7, Hamas terrorists stormed his home, murdered him and his wife, and abducted his children Noam and Alma to Gaza. The children were later freed in a hostage exchange—but Dror’s body never returned. Speaking with The Media Line, Elad described his brother as “a man who believed in life and peace—someone calm, funny, who could make everyone feel at home.” Dror’s life, he said, was built on simplicity and love. “He made cheese, practiced yoga, raised his kids. He was the kind of person who didn’t need much to be happy.” 

The absence, Elad explained, feels like living in two worlds at once. “You take life day by day,” he said. “You can’t live only the pain and the horror, because it will swallow you. You try to keep going, to focus on the living—but there’s always the empty chair, the silence.” He outlined what he calls the three steps toward justice: “First, to bring the bodies home. Second, to investigate everything that happened on October 7 and why we weren’t protected. And third, to rebuild peace based on reality, not illusion.” 

Elad acknowledged that the Trump-brokered ceasefire, though controversial, created the first real opportunity for closure. “The administration saved us,” he said. “They brought back the living and now they’re helping us bring back the dead.” He praised President Trump’s “courage to act,” along with Sen. Marco Rubio, businessman Steve Witkoff, and adviser Jared Kushner, whose coordinated pressure on Egypt, Qatar, and Saudi Arabia pushed Hamas into compliance. “The plan is not perfect,” Elad admitted, “but it stopped the killing. Now it has to end properly—with dignity for the dead.” 

When asked what message he wanted to send to the world, Elad’s answer echoed Nadav’s. “We are just civilians who want to live quietly and peacefully,” he said. “My brother was a father, a yoga teacher, a man of peace. He didn’t hate anyone. The people who murdered him didn’t know him—they only knew hate.” He paused, then continued, “We can’t let hate be the language of this region forever. Hate destroys everything—it destroyed my family, and it destroys theirs too.” 

For Elad, the moral challenge is not only to recover the bodies but to preserve the meaning of their lives. “Dror believed in peace, in dialogue, in community,” he said. “If we bring him back and learn nothing, then we’ve lost twice. Bringing him home means continuing his way of living—with respect, with decency.” 

Both men, Nadav Rudaeff and Elad Or, see their fight as one of dignity, not politics. “The message isn’t about revenge,” Nadav said. “It’s about bringing our people home and showing the next generation that we still believe in life.” Elad expressed the same thought in different words, saying, “To bring them home is to remind ourselves who we are.” 

For Israel, their words carry a quiet warning. Beneath the ceasefire, the diplomacy, and the exhaustion of two years, the country’s moral wound remains open. The families of the remaining hostages and the slain—now joined by international voices—are pressing for the one act that can restore humanity after horror: the return of the dead. Nadav Rudaeff put it simply. “We can’t bring them back to life,” he said. “But we can bring them home. And we can make sure that hate doesn’t win again.”