Menachem Barkai, 71, endured eight months of hell as a prisoner of war in Syria in 1973. In a recently published Hebrew book titled Eight Months in Captivity and the Life that Followed, he described the horrors of captivity and his life’s journey after his being released.
But when the Magazine contacted him two days after the massacre of more than 1,400 Israelis on October 7 and the kidnapping of about 210, he refused to be interviewed. In an email, he said he was experiencing a “storm of emotion,” and there was “no chance” that he would discuss the “catastrophe of the last few days.” A few days later, however, he said he was ready to talk.
Barkai, a resident of Kibbutz Degania Bet in northern Israel, was captured during the Yom Kippur War, toward the end of his three-year military service. He was serving in the electronic warfare unit of the Israel Air Force before being moved from the Sinai to Mount Hermon, just three days before the surprise attack on Israel by Egypt and Syria on Yom Kippur. He was released from captivity eight months later in a prisoner exchange deal.
There are some similarities between what happened then and now. Israel was taken by surprise on Yom Kippur in 1973, and again this year on the festival of Simchat Torah. Both times, it was also Shabbat.
“The Israelis are very smart, but we make mistakes too. We f---ed up. And in Israel, the distance between destruction and existence is very close. So, it did happen, and I’m sure that when this war is over, the investigators will work overtime. And I hope they’ll investigate not only the army but also the politicians and the whole defense establishment. But we’ll wait until it’s over,” he said.
Watching the scenario today, he observed, “I have no idea how it will affect me in the long run. I wasn’t fighting now; I’m not a prisoner now of these – I don’t know what they are, they’re not human beings. The trauma now, because I experience it differently, is much worse. I’m watching television, I see the horror. I see the destruction. I see the brave soldiers, and I’m crying...
“I’m very confused. There is so much rage inside me. I hate the fact that there is so much hate in me right now because of what they [Hamas] did. I look at the television and I see what the Israel Air Force is doing in the Gaza Strip, and I’m no longer sorry for them [residents of Gaza]. Not for the destruction, not for the killing of the Palestinians – and that’s what makes me mad because that has never happened to me before. I was always sympathizing with the non-combatant Palestinians who were killed, but now definitely not.
“They took away some of my humanity. And for that, I hate them. The rage that has built up in my body, in my head, is something that I never knew could exist in me. So, it’s very, very hard for me. I couldn’t talk to you two days ago. It was impossible. I was so emotional. I have tears in my eyes right now, but I can speak. Two days ago, I couldn’t speak,” he said.
Hamas hostages have it worse than Yom Kippur War prisoners
THE SITUATION, as Barkai sees it, is worse for the prisoners now than in 1973. After being captured, “I was missing in action for four and a half months. My parents, my family, my friends – they knew nothing about me. Now, when I see the families who have no idea what’s happening with their loved ones, I more or less manage to put myself in the place that my parents were in, and it’s devastating. I could never really understand, and now I understand a little better.
“But today, it’s a completely different story. I don’t compare my situation to what’s happening to those soldiers and civilians taken captive now – because I was part of a war. This time, they weren’t captured by an army. Today – and I’m talking about the soldiers among them, not the civilians – the prisoners were captured by monsters, and you can never know what Hamas is going to do to them.
“I was captured by the Syrian commander. It was hell, but there’s a process when one is captured in war. I felt that one day I would be returned to my family. Those captured now have no idea what’s going to happen to them. I think – I don’t know – but I imagine that their fear is much, much stronger than mine was.
“I didn’t expect to be captured, but once it happened I switched the disc and started to behave like a prisoner of war. But those hostages in Gaza are not POWs, not even the soldiers among them, because no country captured them. They’re being held by terrorists. They have no rights.”
The Magazine asked whether the current hostage-taking has triggered his memories and trauma.
“If you read what I write and listen to the podcast published about a month ago, you’d know that I don’t want to forget anything. I never tried to forget any of the torture that I went through. I think it gave me a perspective on life. I remember every single day that hell is just a two-meter distance from me; it can happen at any time.
“But I’m an optimistic person. I was optimistic when I was in prison for eight months. I believed – and I don’t know where this belief came from – that I’d be returned. There isn’t a single day that I forget – and that’s okay. Memories don’t bother me, and I give lectures and tell my story to whoever wants to hear it. It’s a therapy for me.”
Asked if he suffers recurrent nightmares, Barkai said:,“I used to dream about the prison for many years. But they were not nightmares. I had a nightmare only once in my life, and then I stopped dreaming altogether. When I was recognized by Israel in 1999 as having PTSD – after I completed a session with a psychiatrist, and he wrote his report to the Defense Ministry about my situation – it was very close to Yom Kippur. That Yom Kippur night, I had a terrible nightmare and I cried for a long, long time, and then I woke up. But since then, I’ve had no more nightmares.”
HOW DID he manage to go on with life after his release? “I wasn’t able to,” he replied. “I never got married. I don’t have children... I believe it has a lot to do with the fact that I was a prisoner...
“After my release from the army in 1974, I worked in various jobs in Kibbutz Degania Bet, my birthplace. In 2001, I stopped my membership in the kibbutz and went traveling for a year and a half, a little in India and mostly in Australia.”
At the age of 58, however, “on the [anniversary of the] day that I was captured, I met a wonderful woman who changed my life. She trusted me, she accepted me as I was, and it gave me confidence that I didn’t have before. I’ve been living with her happily ever since.”
Barkai described himself as an optimist. Is he optimistic about the future of the country?
“I think this trauma is going to be with us for a very long time,” he said. “I don’t know for how long. I wouldn’t be surprised if this trauma – because there were so many civilians killed, so many who were captured – will be with the country, and certainly with me too, for many, many years. I don’t think we’ll be able to forget it...
“What keeps me optimistic is to see all these civilian volunteers, willing to fight,” he said, including those flying in from outside the country. “That’s what fills my heart.”
Barkai’s book is available at major bookstores in Israel. The author accepts invitations to lecture on the topic and hopes to have his book translated into English.