Like everyone else in the country, when I finally saw the images of the first three hostages being released, my emotional stability disintegrated.
It was as if all my different feelings had been put in a smoothie blender turned on to full power.
There was joy at the reunion of Romi, Emily, and Doron with their respective families.
There was the fervent, almost painful desire for their co-hostages to join them in their reunion.
There was disgust at the media-driven frenzy of blood lust displayed by their captors.
There was fear of the consequences of the release of so many hardened terrorists.
There was sadness and sympathy for the victims of the crimes committed by those being freed from prison.
There was hope that the nightmare might be coming to an end.
And there was the prayer that these brave young women and all the remaining hostages will be able to return to some sort of normalcy at the end of this madness.
The initial focus, of course, will be on the physical health of the released captives, but we must not ignore or minimize the impact of the epoch-making horrors of October 7 and the subsequent effects on the psychological health, not only of the hostages, but the injured, the bereaved, the displaced, and every single citizen of the country.
After World War II, there was an almost universal silence from the survivors of the Holocaust until the floodgates were opened, initially by the Eichmann trial in Israel in 1961 and later in 1978 by the screening of the US TV miniseries Holocaust. Following this, there was a cathartic outpouring of testimony from survivors and their families.
However, the horrors were such that in those early years, there was a repression and desire to “just survive” and not to talk about the events. There was survivor’s guilt, although it was not well known at that time.
The desire for all the survivors was to “put it all behind us and to live our lives going forward.”
But it was not so straightforward.
Thirty-five years ago, when there was a spate of exposures of Nazi war criminals, some very prominent, including former UN general-secretary and president of Austria Kurt Waldheim, the German publicist Arno Plack asked, “ How long will we go on defeating Hitler?”
It is to him we owe the phrase “Hitler’s long shadow” – a shadow that has only lengthened since Plack first coined it some 35 years ago.
This expression has numerous iterations and means different things to different people.
For some, it has the meaning of Bertolt Brecht’s famous warning that “the bitch of fascism (you could substitute the word antisemitism) is still in heat.”
Others have understood the long shadow to be the still-felt political fallout of the war, which led to the Cold War between the East and West and the invention of NATO and the utterly corrupt and morally bankrupt United Nations.
To psychologists and psychotherapists, the long shadow of Hitler is the ongoing and deep trauma felt by the second and even third generations of Holocaust victims or survivors.
Their desire to “just get on with our lives” was not possible. The trauma ran too deep and pervaded every moment and relationship – with their spouses, children, and grandchildren.
Studies have shown that the level of PTSD in second and third-generation survivors is very significantly greater than that of their contemporaries.
The collective trauma that we as a nation have gone through since October 7 and are still experiencing will parallel this picture, and we must prepare for the “long shadow of Hamas.”
There is a dire shortage of psychologists, psychotherapists, and other mental health professionals in Israel.
This may be due to a number of factors, including a lack of funding, poor working conditions, and a high demand for services.
The long-term solutions to this crisis must include greater investment by the state in mental health infrastructure and resources to address the long-term impacts of the war.
There is an urgent need to train more therapists, especially those who are proficient in trauma counseling.
In the short term, we all need to step up and become “amateur psychologists.”
We need to learn to spot the signs of PTSD in ourselves and others and to signpost those who are struggling to the appropriate services.
In practical terms, this may include:
Being a supportive listener.
Listen without judgment: Don’t try to fix the situation or give advice.
Give them space: If they don’t want to talk, don’t push them.
Be patient: PTSD symptoms can persist for years.
Be consistent: Keep your support ongoing, even when they seem to be doing better.
Provide emotional support.
Offer understanding and encouragement: Let them know you care and are there for them.
Share positive distractions: Plan activities that can help them relax and enjoy others.
Learn about PTSD: This can help you understand what they’re going through.
Encourage professional help.
Encourage them to talk to a doctor: A mental health professional can help them recover.
Help them find a professional: You can go with them to appointments or help them keep track of them.
Respect their privacy.
Don’t share details without permission: They might not want you to tell others about what happened to them.
We can also continue to pray for a complete healing of all those in need, as we say in our synagogues daily, refuat hanefesh urefuat haguf – both a physical and psychological recovery, however long it takes.
The writer is a rabbi and physician who lives in Ramat Poleg, Netanya. He is a co-founder of Techelet-Inspiring Judaism.