On Monday, Israel lowered its flags to mark October 7 and officially begin a multi-day period of remembrance that, in its mood – though without the sirens – feels like Remembrance Day, the springtime memorial day for Israel’s fallen soldiers.
At Mount Herzl and in communities across the country, the nation mourned the dead, heard heart-breaking stories about the victims and hair-raising tales of survivors, and marked a day whose consequences are very much being felt up until this moment. On Wednesday, the anniversary of the massacre itself, more ceremonies will follow.
And then, later this month, Israelis will go to the polls.
To a great extent, these elections are about October 7 and its aftermath. Israelis will be voting with October 7 very much on their minds: who bears responsibility for the catastrophe, who has served the country effectively since then, and who can best protect it in the future.
Who will be doing the debating?
But October 7 will affect the elections in another way as well – not only through the issues being debated, but also through the people who will be doing the debating.
Among the candidates in realistic positions, or just outside them, on the various party lists are more than 20 people whose connection to October 7 and the ensuing war is deeply personal: bereaved parents and siblings, relatives of hostages, rescuers, wounded soldiers, and reservists who have spent hundreds of days in uniform.
These people – who lost loved ones, fought to bring them home, or risked their own lives that day and in the war that followed – will bring those experiences into the Knesset plenum. October 7 changed them, and, as MKs, they will be in a position to help change the nation.
Some are bereaved parents.
Likud has Talik Gvili, the mother of Yasam (the police’s elite counter-terror unit) officer Ran Gvili, who was killed fighting on October 7 and whose body was the final one recovered from Gaza, in its ninth slot.
Gadi Eisenkot’s Yashar has two bereaved parents high on its list: Eisenkot himself, who lost his son Gal in the war, as well as two nephews; and Shira Shapira, whose son Aner became a symbol of heroism after repeatedly throwing Hamas grenades out of the Re’im roadside shelter until one finally exploded in his hands. Eisenkot heads the list, while Shapira is in the 10th slot.
Naftali Bennett and Yair Lapid’s B’Yachad list includes Michal Hirsch Negri in seventh place. Her son, Roee Negri, was killed fighting at Kibbutz Be’eri.
Yisrael Beytenu’s second slot is occupied by Rafi Ben-Shitrit, whose son, Alroy, was killed defending the Nahal Oz base. In sixth place is Sharon Sharabi, the brother of released hostage Eli Sharabi and Yossi Sharabi, who was killed in captivity. Eli’s wife and two daughters were murdered in Be’eri.
Ofer Winter’s People of Israel list includes Lali Derai, whose son, Saadia Derai, was killed fighting in Gaza, in sixth place.
Nir Hagbi, number 22 on Yashar’s list, lost his son Yonatan on October 7. And Itiel Ne’eman, who is number 10 on Otzma Yehudit’s list, is the brother of reservist Shlomo Aviad Ne’eman, killed in combat in southern Lebanon in October 2024.
Not just bereaved relatives: October 7 fighters also make Knesset lists
Others on the lists experienced October 7 and the war not as bereaved relatives, but as participants.
The Likud’s 13th slot is reserved for Almog Cohen, who fought Hamas terrorists in his hometown of Ofakim on October 7. Its 15th slot is held by Elisha Medan, a reservist who lost both legs after being seriously wounded during the early stages of the war.
Winter, who heads the People of Israel list, rushed to the Gaza border communities on October 7, joined troops near Be’eri, and took part in the fighting there.
Noam Tibon, a former general in the sixth spot on B’Yachad’s list, also rushed south that morning. He and his wife evacuated wounded people before reaching Nahal Oz and rescuing their son and his family.
Yair Golan, another reserve general, drove south and rescued survivors from the Nova music festival. He now heads the Democrats list, which also includes Omri Ronen, whose grandmother Nira Ronen was murdered in her Kfar Aza home. Ronen fought at Kibbutz Nir Oz.
Amir Strugo, number 13 on B’Yachad’s list, also fought in the Gaza border area on October 7.
The Religious Zionist Party has Zvika Mor in its fifth slot. His son, Eitan, was held hostage in Gaza. Just behind him, in sixth place, is Itamar Eitam, a reserve battalion commander who was seriously wounded by sniper fire while fighting in Gaza. After recovering, he returned to command his battalion.
Another thread running through the lists is the extraordinary reserve burden some candidates have carried since October 7. Here, the categories overlap: several of those personally bereaved, wounded, or involved in the fighting that day have also spent hundreds of days in uniform.
The precise totals are based on figures supplied by the candidates and their parties rather than publicly available IDF records, but the numbers are nevertheless striking.
Eitam is said to have served close to 700 reserve days. Yoaz Hendel says he has logged more than 560 days, while Yoav Adomi, the fifth candidate on the Hendel-Zelekha list, has served about 550 days as a deputy battalion commander.
Strugo and Nisan Ze’evi, numbers 13 and 15 respectively on B’Yachad’s list, have each served more than 400 days. Ze’evi did so as part of Kfar Giladi’s emergency security squad while his family was evacuated. Yonatan Shalev, a 23-year-old Maglan fighter in the party’s 10th slot, has also served hundreds of days.
The massacre’s imprint on Israeli society
The composition of the lists, so heavy with people whose lives were upended by October 7, is no coincidence. It shows the massacre’s imprint on Israeli society and reflects an effort by the parties to present the public not only with the familiar, well-worn political faces, but with candidates who have served, sacrificed, and been forever changed by the war.
That desire for something different is also evident in the sheer number of candidates who have never before served in the Knesset. It reflects a sentiment in the country that what is needed now are new leaders – people neither tainted by October 7 nor responsible for the political, military, and intelligence decisions that made it possible.
Approximately 47% of the candidates in what are considered realistic positions, or one or two slots beyond them, have never served in the Knesset. If anything close to that figure materializes, it would represent one of the largest turnovers in the country’s parliamentary history.
Seventeen of the first 23 candidates on Eisenkot’s list would be new MKs, including six of the top 10. Half of the first 10 candidates on Bennett’s list have never served in the Knesset, nor have eight of its top 15. Yisrael Beytenu has five new faces among its first 11, the Democrats have six among their top 12, and Likud has four among its first 21 candidates.
The desire for new blood has even seeped into the haredi (ultra-Orthodox) and Arab parties, which traditionally tend to prize continuity. United Torah Judaism has four new names in its top nine, while three of the Joint List’s first seven candidates have never served as MKs.
What this all means is that October 7 will be present in the next Knesset not only as a subject of debate, but as lived experience.
Arguments over a commission of inquiry, universal military service, support to hostages and their families, the rehabilitation of the border communities, and the country’s future security policy will not be conducted solely by politicians reading reports or citing statistics.
They will also involve people whose family names appeared in casualty notices, who sat in hostage-family tents, who fought in the kibbutzim and Gaza, or who left their families for hundreds of days of reserve duty. It will be very personal.
That does not mean they will agree. They are scattered across the political spectrum and hold sharply different views about what went wrong and what must now be done. Personal sacrifice also does not automatically confer political wisdom. But it does bring a different perspective and a different degree of urgency.
October 7 will not only permeate the next Knesset’s debates but also be reflected in its membership. And that membership, in turn, will help determine how Israel ultimately comes to grips with October 7 – what led to it, what happened that day, and all that followed.