Brownstein: ‘I can't go back to my life before,' says former Hamas hostage on eve of Montreal visit

Montreal Gazette

6 days ago

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Eliya Cohen has been to hell — but he's not completely back.
He is still trying to deal with the trauma of having been held hostage by Hamas for 505 days, mostly in an underground tunnel in Gaza, mostly shackled in chains and pretty much always famished.
Cohen was snatched by Hamas in a roadside bunker after leaving the Nova music festival on Oct. 7, 2023. He was released and returned to Israel in an emaciated state — having lost 45 pounds — on Feb. 8 with hostages Eli Sharabi and Or Levy, with whom he was held in captivity. Alon Ohel, Cohen's best friend, was with them as well, but he has not been released.
'I don't think I can find any peace right now, because all I can think about are those hostages still being held like Alon, who have no food and are in chains,' says Cohen, 28, in a video call interview. 'How can I find peace knowing what these hostages are going though right now?'
Ziv Abud, Cohen's fiancée, has joined him on this video call.
'His body is here, but his heart and his mind are still in Gaza,' Abud says.
After various prisoner exchanges, an estimated 58 hostages out of the 251 abducted by Hamas on Oct. 7 are still in Gaza. But that number includes the bodies of at least 35 who have been confirmed dead by Israel Defense Forces. About 1,200 were killed in the initial Hamas assault, which led to the war and has resulted in the deaths of about 54,000 Palestinians, according to Gaza's health ministry.
'Eliya knew nothing of what was going on above him,' Abud notes. 'He and the other hostages were totally isolated from the news.'
Says Cohen: 'I'm not a political person. I don't want to talk about situations I don't know much about. But I do believe that our government can take out the hostages just like they took me out. So they can also take out all the others.'
Cohen will talk about his ordeal at a public event at the Congregation Shaar Hashomayim in Montreal on Wednesday. Abud will be joining him onstage. This will mark the first visit to Montreal of a released Hamas hostage. Cohen and Abud then head to Toronto the following day as part of their first speaking engagements in Canada.
Abud was also with Cohen in the roadside bunker under siege after running from the Nova fest. They recall grenades being lobbed into the bunker by Hamas and being tossed back by those inside. Many died in the attack. Cohen and Abud survived by lying under the dead bodies, but Cohen, shot in the leg and losing consciousness, was seized while Abud managed to avoid capture.
The next thing Cohen remembered was waking up in a truck in Gaza with other hostages, all being hit with rifle butts and spit upon to the cheers of crowds. He was initially placed in an apartment building before being moved to the underground tunnel, his home for nearly a year and a half.
Apart from the hunger resulting from sharing meagre portions of pita and peas with the others, he remembers being in chains, which were only removed every two months or so before being allowed to wash. But as it became apparent that he was to be released in February, food rations were increased significantly in order that he and the two others wouldn't appear as skeletal in the public eye.
'After the deal was reached (to release us), the terrorists started to be good with us,' Cohen says. 'The relationships started to be good, just because they wanted me to get out and say to the world that Hamas is OK. But that didn't (work).'
Cohen does credit his captors with teaching him to speak Arabic. Before being held hostage, he hardly spoke any English. He credits American-Israeli hostage Hersh Goldberg-Polin, whom he met briefly at the beginning of his captivity, for passing along the book Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo. Goldberg-Polin was later found dead in an underground tunnel.
'I read that book 12 times during my captivity, and I figured I learned about 2,500 English words as a result,' Cohen says.
I ask Cohen if he has thoughts about writing something about his hostage experience, perhaps even a book.
'This is his dream,' Abud answers for him. 'To write a book and even to make a movie. But we realize it will take time, and we are looking for the right person to put this all together. We have a special story to tell.'
That they do.
Planned to propose to Abud that day
Cohen recalls having a romantic, life-changing plan at the Nova fest prior to the Hamas attack. Unbeknownst to Abud, he had brought an engagement ring with him and had been set to propose to her the morning of the assault.
And what was intended to be 'one of the happiest days in our lives' turned out to be the most horrific, Cohen said.
Prior to his kidnapping, Cohen dabbled in managing apartment buildings, but his principal focus and passion had always been music. He had attended numerous festivals around the country and abroad with Abud and had even orchestrated a few himself. Now he is unemployed while undergoing a 'healing process' in Tel Aviv.
'His greatest pleasure was producing music festivals,' Abud says. 'Going to music festivals was a regular (occurrence) for us. Going to Nova was nothing (different) for us. It was just like going to another party.
'Eliya feels that music connects people. We have friends in all communities. We had recently been to India where we met up with some of our Iranian friends. Eliya had just gone to another festival outside the country where he was with his Lebanese friends. We've met so many people from around the world. I don't know if their minds have changed (about us), but we haven't changed our minds about them and they'll remain our friends. We have no hate in our hearts.
'Eliya can't even hate the people who were holding him. He can't blame them, because this is what they see on TV. This is the message Hamas pushes.'
Cohen nods in agreement.
'But I can't go back to my life before, until I see Alon and the other hostages (being held) come back. Alon was my best friend from even before the attack,' says Cohen, who hasn't received news about him since being released.
Cohen says it's vital that he have some hope.
'We really need to value the small things in life,' he says. 'Only when something is taken away from you can you ever start learning how to cherish it. Like even just seeing your mother make coffee for you in the morning.'
Cohen acknowledges a return to any sort of similar normalcy would certainly help for starters.
'Amen to that,' he sighs, managing the faintest of smiles.