By Fiamma Nirenstein, JNS
The reckoning of the events that led to that horrific day come as a new military chief seeks to bring a quiet, determined strength to inspire the troops and the nation.
Eyal Zamir, the new chief of staff of the Israel Defense Forces, embodies the composed strength of the tank corps—resolute, methodical and enduring. Unlike the aerial acrobatics of fighter pilots or the tactical ingenuity of paratroopers,his disposition reflects the quiet yet relentless power of members of the armored divisions. His new post comes as the IDF must reclaim its essential role in national security, and Zamir, 59, is poised to help to do just that.
Israel is an unprecedented search for self-understanding, a moment of reckoning unseen even during the traumatic 1973 Yom Kippur War. The wounds of Oct. 7 have been torn open again as harrowing revelations emerge from independent investigations conducted by the IDF and Shin Bet. The findings expose a devastating failure within one of the world’s most formidable security apparatuses.
Two critical voids stand out: First, the failure to comprehend the attack, despite possessing various pieces of the puzzle—elements that, had they been connected, would have foretold the disaster. Intelligence was available and the picture was clear, yet the implications were ignored. Second, the unconscionable delay of several hours in responding left desperate residents pleading for help that arrived too late or not at all.
The horror at Kibbutz Kfar Aza encapsulates this failure. By the time the last terrorist was eliminated on Oct. 10, a total of 64 residents had been killed and 19 kidnapped. The first distress call was placed at 6:29 a.m., but real military intervention did not arrive until 1:15 p.m. In just the first hour of the attack, 33 civilians had been murdered. By 8 a.m., the kibbutz was overrun with 250 terrorists; the abductions began at 10 a.m. Still, there was no one to stop them. By 10:30 a.m., a handful of soldiers found themselves facing insurmountable odds, one against five. The homes of young Israelis were obliterated. Their remains were scattered among the wreckage. Units in the field operated in complete disarray, unaware of each other’s presence.
At the Nahal Oz military outpost along the Gaza border, there were 162 soldiers, only 90 of them armed. Of the 90, 81 were trained as combat soldiers. The soldiers were overrun in three meticulously orchestrated waves at 6:30, 9 and 10 a.m. Hamas, operating with precise intelligence, knew exactly where to cut the fence, where surveillance cameras were positioned, when patrols passed, and even where commanders slept. The result: 53 soldiers were killed instantly. Seven female IDF observers and three troops were kidnapped.
As lone heroes from across Israel rushed to the aid of besieged communities, the Israeli Army was still absent—save for scattered, self-organized units. The Air Force took four hours to respond; ground troops, at places like Kibbutz Kfar Aza and Kibbutz Be’eri, awaited orders that never came. The Gaza Division was paralyzed, offering no directives even when the scale of the disaster was undeniable. No one thought to evacuate the 3,000 young people gathered at the Nova music festival in Kibbutz Re’im, despite intelligence indicating they were a prime target.
These kibbutzim, nestled on the edge of a volatile border, had been lulled into complacency, as if they were nestled in the rolling hills of Tuscany rather than within firing range of Hamas. At Kibbutz Kfar Aza, all weapons had been voluntarily locked away in storage. Families—children, the elderly, entire generations—remained trapped in shelters, dialing emergency numbers in vain for hours on end.
Did Shin Bet and Aman, Israel’s military intelligence, truly lack the necessary information?
On the contrary, they had it in abundance but dismissed it due to a toxic blend of arrogance, pacifism and overconfidence—a doctrine known as the conceptia. The prevailing belief was that Hamas did not seek war, that it understood its inferiority, and that it had been defeated between 2008 and 2021. Yet all the signs were there: Hamas was training masses of fighters at the border, expanding its tunnel networks, and receiving Iranian and Qatari funds for weapons.
On the night before the massacre, IDF intelligence had clear evidence that thousands of Hamas terrorists were mobilizing in organized battalions, arming themselves with Kalashnikovs, even activating Israeli SIM cards en masse. Then-IDF Chief of Staff Herzi Halevi was alerted at 3:30 a.m., yet like his subordinates, he deferred action until morning. Astonishingly, even former Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant was unaware of the attack until his daughter called him at 6:30 a.m.
As for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu? He was not even awakened.
Now, Israel seeks solace in its heroes—those incredible, selfless individuals who, from every corner of the nation, ran to protect their fellow citizens in their hour of need. Thanks to them, the nation still stands, engaged in battle across seven fronts. But the wounds of Oct. 7 remain fresh. The Jewish people, as they have throughout history, find themselves facing another painful chapter that they must overcome.
