In the months since October 7, Alon Shirizli, 78, has developed a routine from which he doesn’t deviate. He wakes up at 4:30 each morning to care for his 50 fruit trees. By 6:00 a.m., he and his wife are on the train to a protest in Jerusalem. They return home to Pardes Hanna at 3:00 p.m. to eat lunch, and then head back out to another protest in Tel Aviv, returning home around 10:30 p.m.—all in service of bringing the hostages home.
Shirizli is an eighth-generation Jerusalemite, husband to Shoshi, father to three, and grandfather to eight. After spending his military service as a paratrooper with the Nahal Brigades, he moved to Sde Boker with a group of fellow Nahal soldiers. There, he taught poultry rearing.
In his own words, he grew up on the values of love for the land of Israel, helping others, defending the state, and military service. In light of all that, October 7 was a tremendous fracture.
“For me and my wife Shoshi, what happened on October 7 was a colossal crisis,” Shirizli said. “We understood that the state was not standing behind its promises. The trust that the state and the IDF would protect us in times of crisis was shattered and collapsed: 255 people were kidnapped to Gaza, and the state stood by and said, “We have more important things to do, maybe we can bring them back with the help of war.’”
Shirizli is deeply critical of the state’s insistence that hostages can be brought back home through war. “War didn't help,” he said. Some isolated individuals were brought back in war, but what brought the hostages was the first deal, which for some reason ended too quickly. Today we are at 354 days, with no deal, no hostages, many hostages killed in captivity, many hostages dying because they cannot withstand the conditions of captivity.”
Even before October 7, 2023, Shirizli and his wife were no strangers to protests. “Since January 2023, with the judicial overhaul, we have been very active,” he said. “We went out to protests to bring Israel back to the path of true democracy and not a farcical democracy. It was a terrible year in this regard, with many protests, but there were things we felt had to be done.”
The protest movement to bring the hostages home began on October 14, when Kfar Aza massacre survivor Avichai Brodutch began protesting in front of the Kirya military base in Tel Aviv for the return of his kidnapped wife and three children. Soon after, Shirizli and his wife showed up. Together with Brodutch and the family of 19-year-old hostage Liri Elbag, they set up the first tent on Kaplan Street.
“Two tents on either side of the road, that was the beginning,” Shirizli recounted. After that, the presence of hostage families grew and thousands of people came through to sit with the families, bring them food, and join their call for their loved ones’ release.
“There really was a feeling that it was about to happen, because you can’t think of anything else, you can’t think that people would remain [in Gaza], you can’t think that someone would decide not to bring them back,” he said.
Shirizli and Shoshi have been central volunteers from the beginning. “We provide moral support to the families of the hostages. We ask what they need, we help, we provide support from the side,” Shirizli said. “We don’t organize anything unnecessary; we advise, but whatever they ask for, we’re at their service.”
That dedication extends outside of the protests in Tel Aviv. The couple has marched to Jerusalem and to the Gaza border in efforts to bring the hostages home.
Shirizli described the march from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem in July as one of the most uplifting moments of the past year. “Tens of thousands marched, everyone with tremendous energy,” he said. “And we reached Jerusalem, and there was a rally in front of the Knesset. I think there were between 200,000 and 300,000 people there, and we felt that the next morning things would change—seeing this mass of people, certainly the coalition would hear, would come out of the indifference and lack of concern.”
That hope did not come to fruition, and three months later, more than 100 hostages remain in captivity. But Shirizli has no intention of giving up.
“We are committed to continue until the last hostage returns, so that in the future we won’t stand in front of the mirror and say, we didn’t do enough and the hostages disappeared,” he said.
They often attend Knesset committees with the families to provide moral support. They’ve been sorely disappointed with the behavior of coalition members on the issue.
“The behavior of the committee chairs and coalition Knesset members is the most disappointing thing,” Shirizli said. “They do not relate other than saying ‘Thank you, we’ll move on to the agenda,’ or ‘If anyone has anything else to add.’”
Last month, Shirizli frustration’s overflowed and he shouted at a Knesset member. “For almost 350 days you haven’t been able to do anything; it’s a sign that you need to vacate your place and let someone who can do this sit in your place and bring back the hostages!” he recalled yelling.
Shirizli has been disappointed in the behavior of regular Israelis as well as politicians. When protesting, ongoers sometimes yell “It’s a pity you weren’t kidnapped to Gaza” or “Only because of you we can’t win the war,” he said. He and his wife don’t respond to provocations of that sort, but they are deeply disturbed by them.
Ultimately, Shirizli is trying to build a better future for his grandchildren, two of whom are currently serving in the army—one in Gaza and one in a marine commando unit.
“I don’t want to see them packing bags, heading to the airport, and disappearing from our country,” he said. “They are a tenth-generation family in this land, and we want them to stay here, because this is home.”
