The editor-in-chief of Walla called me with an interesting proposal: “You should write a profile piece about Stephanie Eller,” he said.
The name "Stephanie Eller" was never explicitly mentioned. At that moment, neither of us recognized it. Instead, the editor said something along the lines of: “You should write about the annoying blonde from the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC).”
Perhaps one of the adjectives—“annoying” or “blonde”—was not stated outright, but both were hung in the air. There was no denying who he meant. She was clearly blonde, and the only reason for writing about her was that she had infuriated millions of Israelis.
It’s only natural. We become irritated when people fail to act as we expect them to. It infuriates us to see a representative of the ICRC sitting next to a masked terrorist, signing “release documents” for civilians who were snatched from a party or pulled from their beds in pajamas. It is almost as exasperating as the fact that the Red Cross—whose duty is to remain neutral and provide medical aid to the wounded on all sides—offered no assistance whatsoever to our captives for over 500 days.
But why stop at 500? Yesterday, we received a painful reminder that for 3,825 days in captivity, the Red Cross did nothing for Avera Mengistu's wellbeing despite the repeated efforts of his family, who met with the organization’s representatives in Geneva.
Before diving into my investigation of Stephanie Eller (spoiler: the mystery surrounding her only deepened), it is worth taking a moment to return to Switzerland.
A look into the Swiss-based ICRC
Chocolate. That’s the first word that comes to mind when I think of Switzerland. Others might think of precise watches, durable suitcases, or even Eurovision—the first contest was founded in Geneva, produced in Lugano, and won by Lys Assia, a Swiss singer from Aargau. Yet my sweet tooth directs my thoughts unmistakably to chocolate.
Last year, I arrived—almost by accident—in Montreux, a town steeped in cultural history on the shores of Lake Geneva. There, Frank Zappa set the famous casino hall ablaze, an event that inspired Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water.” Inside the casino was a recording studio where Queen recorded their albums. Today, the site is a museum dedicated to the band, featuring a marked spot on the floor reading: “This is where Freddie Mercury stood the last time he recorded a song.” Out on the lake, a statue commemorates that moment.
Beautiful Geneva, with its blue and green hues refreshing the eyes, is renowned for more than just chocolate and watches. It is also a global symbol of neutrality, home to the Geneva Conference, the Geneva Initiative, and of course, the Geneva Convention—the foundation from which the Red Cross was born.
Before turning to Stephanie Eller, let’s return to a man with a formidable mustache: Henry Dunant. A Swiss businessman born in Geneva, Dunant witnessed the horrors of the Battle of Solferino on June 24, 1859, during Italy’s Second War of Independence.
The battle pitted 118,000 Italian-French troops against 100,000 Austrians in a nine-hour clash, remembered in history books as an Italian victory. However, what is often omitted is that 37,000 men lost their lives, 23,000 were wounded, and 12,000 were declared prisoners or missing. Many who died could have survived with proper medical care, yet most perished on the battlefield due to a lack of treatment.
Dunant, unable to turn a blind eye, rallied locals to provide first aid to the wounded on both sides under the slogan Fratelli tutti (We are all brothers). His experience led him to write A Memory of Solferino, published in 1862 at his own expense. In it, he not only recounted the horrors he had witnessed but also proposed a revolutionary idea: the establishment of an international, neutral organization to care for the war-wounded regardless of their affiliation.
That book laid the groundwork for the first Geneva Convention in 1864. The current version—the fourth—was drafted after World War II and remains a framework outlining the limits of just warfare. Dunant later became the first Nobel Peace Prize laureate. The organization he founded received the Nobel Prize three times—in 1917, 1944, and 1963. Today, the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement comprises roughly 16 million volunteers worldwide.
Fast forward to the hostage propaganda ceremonies
When I see Stephanie Eller signing documents alongside terrorists—and the organization functioning as a wartime taxi service, transferring captives from Hamas “victory” ceremonies to the IDF—I wonder: what does “neutrality” even mean?
The saying, “The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who remain neutral in times of moral crisis,” is often attributed to Dante Alighieri. However, Dante wrote something even harsher. He didn’t consign the neutrals to hell at all; he left them in a corridor, incessantly stung by wasps, forever chasing a waving flag. They weren’t even deemed worthy of entering hell, lest the sinners there take solace in knowing there were those far worse.
Stephanie Eller is arguably one of the most enigmatic figures in the world. On the one hand, she has entered millions of homes through television and smartphones; on the other, she leaves no trace on social networks or search engines. Even her official communications to Red Cross institutions have raised more questions than answers.
A review of Red Cross reports reveals that in 2014, she was in the bloodstained battlefields of Anbar Province, Iraq, wrapped in a modest headscarf. She assisted in urgent relief operations while ISIS forces attempted to seize the area. Some would call her a hero.
That same year, a Swiss documentary titled Between the Front Lines exposed the work of Red Cross representatives, featuring Eller as a sharp young delegate investigating the treatment of Palestinian prisoners in Israel. But ten years later, as she signs release documents in Gaza alongside masked terrorists, one must ask: where did her neutrality go?
Just when I was about to give up, an advertisement popped up on a social network inviting me to apply for the role of a Red Cross delegate.
I didn’t apply. Not because I oppose humanitarian aid—I support providing humanitarian aid for the children in Gaza. Civilians on both sides should not suffer in war. But I cannot remain neutral in the face of such atrocities.
The day the Red Cross participated in a ceremony where bodies of children were displayed while cheerful music played was a disgrace that will haunt the organization for decades. If that is neutrality, I would rather choose a side—a side against the open murder of children.
For its part, the Red Cross defends its actions. In a rare statement, the organization claimed that misinformation about its work is spreading. It emphasized that its operations depended on the goodwill of warring parties and that proactive intervention might have jeopardized both staff and captives.
Returning to my conversation with the editor, I realized that “annoying” wasn’t quite the right word. Stephanie Eller joined a human rights organization for honorable reasons—but she became the face of an institution that has lost its way.
If Jean Henri Dunant were alive today, standing on the shores of Lake Geneva, perhaps he would understand that the Red Cross on a white background has become something else entirely—a white flag of surrender, raised in the name of neutrality.
The author is the cultural critic and homepage editor of Walla News.