The idealists of Kibbutz Be’eri believed in peace with the Palestinians. But on October 7, 2023, Hamas invaded their kibbutz and carried out a massacre. Kibbutz member Nitzan Peled guided us past destroyed houses and shared the stories of the residents. Their story is also one of deeply shattered trust and despair over whether peace will ever be possible.

On a mild spring day, we arrive at Kibbutz Be’eri. At the entrance, we are welcomed by a petite woman with long dark hair and a cowboy hat. She smiles kindly as we introduce ourselves. Her name is Nitzan Peled and she will be our guide today. Nitzan suggests we take her car, and we ask in surprise if we can’t walk. But no, the kibbutz is too large for that. We get in, and she drives us past fields and buildings.

As we drive, Nitzan tells us about the kibbutz. This is a true commune where everything is shared. Anyone with an income contributes it to the communal budget, from which each member receives what he or she needs. Even the houses they live in are not private property. Everything – including the kindergarten, swimming pool and fields – belongs to the community.

Damage

From the car, we can already see the first signs of damage. Houses without roofs, houses with fire damage, bullet holes in the walls. We drive past a high fence and Nitzan points out where Hamas entered on October 7, 2023. In several places the terrorists had cut holes in the fence, but none of that is visible anymore. The fence has been repaired, and a sand wall has now been raised behind it, as an additional defense.

Nitzan tells how the terrorists knew exactly where they needed to be. They knew where the weapons were stored, they knew where the safe rooms were and they knew who lived in each house. They had obtained this information from people from Gaza who used to work in the kibbutz. Film footage of the raid showed UNRWA workers looting the bodies of the dead.

Banners

We enter a street lined with many trees and stop at a destroyed house. In front of the houses are banners with pictures and writing. “In this house lived…” followed by the names of the residents and what happened to them on that fateful day. We stand before a house with pictures of a family: A grandfather and grandmother, a husband and wife with two children, and another woman with a young teenage daughter.

Safe room cracked open

Nitzan points to a badly damaged wall with a small window. “‘Do you see those stairs?’ We stare for a moment, then recognize the remains of a staircase. A metal railing is still attached to the wall, with broken wooden boards hanging from it. The rest lies on the ground. Behind those destroyed stairs was the safe room, and even though the terrorists had shot holes in the heavy door, they couldn’t get in. So they broke open the window with a shovel and dragged the terrified occupants out through it.

Nitzan takes us inside. Broken roof tiles crunch under our feet. Inside is nothing but devastation. The safe room turns out to be tiny; there is no space to stretch out. This is where two men, three women and three children sat crammed together while bullets slammed through the door, until their hiding place was finally broken open with brute force.

Grandfather Avsalom was killed on the spot. The others were kidnapped to Gaza. How can a three-year-old toddler and an eight-year-old boy ever feel safe again after such horrific experiences? The women and children were released after seven weeks in the first hostage deal, and only then did 12-year-old Noam break down. After all those weeks of staying strong, the panic attacks and nightmares finally caught up with her. More than a year later, in February 2025, Tal Shoham was released and was finally reunited with his children.

One could already write a book about the events in this one house alone, but there are so many houses with banners in front of them. We walk past them, seeing the pictures of the residents. We read their names and what happened to them, and already move on to the next house. And the next. And the next. One would wish to stop at each house to pay the proper respect, but there are too many.

Blue bench

Nitzan stops at a house where pictures of an elderly couple hang. This is where Maayan and Yuval Bar lived. On October 7, these veterans of the kibbutz were killed in this house. There was heavy fighting here, and two IDF soldiers were also killed, for whom pictures are displayed on the wall in the living room. Bullet holes are visible in the walls, and on the floor, we can see a large hole where a shell exploded.

In the room, there is a blue bench, and Nitzan becomes a little emotional. She sits down on the bench and talks about how she sometimes comes here to remember Maayan and Yuval. Then, she sits on that bench and recalls all the warmth and love that once filled this house. The door was always open, everyone just walked in and was welcome.

We walk into the garden and Nitzan talks about how green and well-tended everything once was. The gardens near the houses are now becoming overgrown because no one maintains them anymore. Moreover, there are roof tiles, beams, badly damaged household goods and broken toys scattered everywhere. Among broken flower pots and the remains of a window frame stands an abandoned playpen on wheels.

Peace activist

We walk on and arrive at the home of Vivian Silver. She was a prominent peace activist who dedicated her life to standing up for the rights of Palestinians. Nitzan tells us about the last project she and Vivian set up for people from Gaza who used to work in the kibbutz. It had been postponed to the end of October 2023 because Vivian wanted to be there herself.

With a shock, I realize that Hamas had detailed information about the kibbutz. Could the same people for whom this project was intended have provided that information? I ask Nitzan about it, but she doesn’t know. The people of Kibbutz Be’eri only know that the information ended up in Hamas’s hands, but they don’t know how exactly.

Nitzan points to the piles of rubble in front of the houses. All that rubble has been carefully sifted and searched to find human remains. It was through this process that Vivian’s death was confirmed. Her DNA was found among the rubble.

Alone

Nitzan takes us to her own home. Or rather, to where her house used to stand. It was so badly damaged that it had to be demolished. She points around her to houses that are still standing, and empty spaces where houses once stood. ‘There lived that one, and there that one, that one was killed, that one was taken hostage, that one was killed…’ One neighbor after another is mentioned. And these were not just any neighbors, these were fellow members of the kibbutz, dear friends, and fellow fighters for the good cause.

How did Nitzan survive? She herself is still baffled by that. She had gone into her safe room and kept quiet when she heard the terrorists in her house. They shot through the safe room door, and the noise was so loud that Nitzan was temporarily deafened. When the ringing in her ears subsided, the terrorists seemed to be gone, and she stayed in complete silence. She smelled a burning smell, but didn’t dare leave the safe room.

It later turned out that her neighbor’s house burned down completely, but her own house had only partially burned. The fire had gone out before it reached the safe room. For hours, she sat there alone while the battery of her phone ran out. Eventually she was found by IDF soldiers who gathered the surviving kibbutz members and formed a living corridor through which civilians could flee. Still, one woman was shot dead during that rescue operation.

Questions

Why was Nitzan miraculously saved while her neighbors perished? That is a question she struggles with. Why me? And unfortunately, it is not the only question. Cautiously, I inquire how she now feels regarding peace with the Palestinians. Her desperation is palpable. How can she still believe in peace with these people? She still tries to sympathize with the suffering in Gaza, but the pain of losing so many loved ones prevails.

Kibbutz Be’eri had just over 1,000 residents, and on October 7, more than a hundred were killed. Dozens were taken hostage, and everyone was evacuated. Currently, only a small portion has returned to try to take care of the kibbutz. The families cannot return yet, because there is no school for the children. The kibbutz members are scattered across the country, and under these circumstances, are not yet managing to make joint decisions about the future.

These people who believed so strongly in peace and put their convictions into action, how are they to go on? From a financial point of view alone, the problems are enormous. The damage is huge, and many incomes have been lost. But the emotional damage is far greater. They believed in peaceful coexistence and reached out to their Palestinian neighbors. The response was a brutal raid involving murder, looting, hostage-taking and massive destruction.

Precisely those who stood up for peace were hit the hardest on that Black Saturday. On October 7, Hamas committed countless murders, but perhaps their worst crime was the assault on the goodwill of so many Israelis who sought peace.

 

Donations to the people of Kibbutz Be’eri can be made through this link. There you can also see a video from happier times.

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