The Media Line: ‘We Can’t Mourn Yet’: Families Push for Return of Gaza Remains

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‘We Can’t Mourn Yet’: Families Push for Return of Gaza Remains

Two years after Oct. 7, relatives of Capt. Omer Neutra and Amiram Cooper press Israeli officials and international mediators to enforce ceasefire commitments on body returns

By Gabriel Colodro/The Media Line

Two years after the Oct. 7, 2023 massacre in southern Israel, families whose loved ones’ bodies remain in Gaza are pressing Israeli officials and international mediators to secure their return. For Ronen Neutra—father of 21-year-old US-Israeli officer Capt. Omer Neutra—and for Rotem Cooper, son of kibbutz founder and poet Amiram Cooper, the war’s end on paper has not ended their ordeal.

“We can’t mourn yet,” Neutra told The Media Line. “Even though we’ve been told he’s not alive, we never got him back. Every time we hear that remains were returned, there’s anxiety—whether it’s our son, yes or no. So far, every time, it’s not him.”

Born in Manhattan a month after 9/11, Omer was raised by Israeli immigrants in a Jewish community on Long Island, where identity and duty were taught as inseparable. “My wife Orna was pregnant during the attacks,” Neutra said. “I waited for her on the Queensboro Bridge to make sure our not-yet-born son was protected. We never imagined that 22 years later he would be killed in the biggest attack on Israeli soil.”

He grew up playing basketball, captained school teams, led his youth movement, and organized Shabbat events; after a gap year in Israel, he chose not to return to New York for college. “He said he couldn’t go back to the comfortable life in New York,” his father recalled. “He wanted to serve like every other Israeli kid.” He enlisted, became a tank commander, and on Oct. 7, 2023, was among the first responders along the Gaza border. His body was taken to Gaza and has never been recovered.

For Cooper, the abduction of his father carried a different kind of symbolism: a man who built his life on Israel’s founding ideals taken from the very soil he helped settle. “My father, Amiram Cooper, was born in 1938,” he told The Media Line. “From a young age, he knew he wanted to establish a kibbutz. That was the dream if you were a Zionist—to go to the places where it was hard, to build something from nothing.”

Amiram became one of the central figures of Kibbutz Nir Oz. “He managed the agriculture, the factory, the production,” Rotem said. “He was a man of people, of conversation, and a poet who published three books. A few of his songs are still played on Israeli radio.”

On Oct. 7, Amiram and his wife, Nurit, were kidnapped together. Seventeen days later, Nurit was unexpectedly released in a unilateral move by Hamas. “When she came out, we learned they were together the whole time,” Rotem said. “My father was the oldest in that group, 84 at the time. He was unhurt then, but later we learned he was murdered in Gaza. There was a chance to bring him out alive, but it didn’t happen.”

Under the current ceasefire—based on President Donald Trump’s 20-point plan for Gaza—the families say the waiting continues in a different form. As of Oct. 26, 2025, Hamas has returned 15 bodies and continues to hold 13, including those of Omer and Amiram.

“Hamas is always playing games,” Cooper said. “They could have provided at least eight bodies already. They had 72 hours in the agreement, then another week, and still they’re not honoring it. You need to be forceful. Use every leverage possible—short of war—to make them comply.”

President Trump recently issued a 48-hour ultimatum to Hamas through his social-media platform, demanding that the bodies be returned “quickly” or that “other countries involved in this GREAT PEACE will take action.” Secretary of State Marco Rubio met both families in Jerusalem and vowed that the United States “will not rest until all remains are returned.”

Neutra believes this pressure matters. “The Trump administration understood that bringing the hostages home was the key to ending the conflict,” he said. “We feel blessed that he showed leadership and bold decision-making, forcing Hamas and Israel to end the war. Now it’s about finishing the job—bringing every last one home.”

Behind that diplomatic push lies a deeper moral exhaustion. “The uncertainty we live in is part of Hamas’ terror,” Neutra said. “They use any loophole. The agreement said the living hostages and the deceased must be returned. They’re claiming they don’t have access or equipment—but most of it is excuses. They know where they are. They’re just prolonging the suffering.”

Both men describe the past two years as a struggle for dignity as much as for justice. “We can’t mourn yet because there’s no closure,” Neutra said quietly. “Our grieving process is frozen in time.”

Cooper’s tone also alternates between grief and clarity. “It’s very simple,” he said. “Thirteen families need closure. Thirteen hostages need to come home. We will not stop until they’re back.”

In their view, the Israeli government has failed to meet the moral standard set by its citizens. “I expected more compassion,” Neutra said. “The hostage issue became too political. Too many parties attacked the families as if our efforts to bring our loved ones back were an act against the country. It’s not politics—it’s humanity.”

The public, he noted, has been more steadfast than politicians. “At first, less than half of Israelis thought returning the hostages was more important than total victory,” he said. “Over time, the families’ campaign changed that. More than 80% came to believe the hostages should come home, even if it meant ending the war. The government ignored that. But the US saw it, and acted.”

Cooper echoed that view: “Trump forced both sides to end the war. That was exactly what the families wanted. It saved lives—but it’s not over until every hostage, alive or dead, comes home.”

Both families acknowledge the growing role of international actors, particularly Egypt, which recently deployed a technical search team inside Gaza with Israeli coordination. “We see some movement,” Cooper said. “Egyptian and Red Cross teams are finally getting access. The next 24 hours will be telling.”

Still, they measure progress not in political statements but in moral terms. “This is about who we are as a people,” Neutra reflected. “In our tradition, we don’t leave anyone behind—not in life, not in death.”

He cited Lt. Hadar Goldin, whose body has been held in Gaza since 2014. “Israel had chances to bring him back and didn’t,” Neutra said. “His family deserves closure, just like ours.”

Neither family speaks in the language of vengeance. Their tone is one of weary conviction—an insistence that moral repair, not victory, defines a nation’s strength. “Our focus is on bringing Omer back,” Neutra said. “Once we have closure, there will have to be accountability for October 7. But for now, our mission is simple: no one is left behind.”

Cooper’s final words return to the essence of his father’s life—a poet, a builder, a believer in dialogue. “My father dedicated his life to this land and to people,” he said. “He believed in a two-state solution, in coexistence. I don’t know how this event would have shaped his beliefs—we’ll never know. But I do know we have a duty to bring him home, to close the circle, and to prove that his values still live here.”

Two years after the massacre that changed Israel, both men speak less of anger than of endurance—of the space between mourning and justice, between politics and humanity. Their voices, steady and measured, have become part of Israel’s conscience.

As Neutra put it, “We’re not asking for sympathy. We’re asking for decency. Bring them home—all of them. Only then can Israel truly begin to heal.”