Inside the Tunnels: A review of Eli Sharabi’s Memoir Hostage

On 7 October 2023, Eli Sharabi’s life changed forever. Sharabi was living with his English-born wife, Lianne, and their two teenage daughters at Kibbutz Be’eri in southern Israel when Hamas militants crossed over from Gaza and stormed his kibbutz and others in southern Israel — as well as the nearby Nova music festival — in an horrific surprise assault. The family sheltered in their safe-room as the terrorists swept through the kibbutz, killing, burning and abducting. Sharabi was dragged from his home into Gaza, while Lianne and the girls (and one of his brothers) were killed.

Sharabi’s new memoir Hostage is the first published account by an Israeli taken hostage during the October 7 attack. His story is brutal, unnerving, and compelling: a narrative of survival, endurance, human connection and what happens when ordinary people are thrust into extraordinary darkness. Sharabi’s book is historic, both as personal testimony and as a voice for all those hostages taken that horrific day.

Eli spent 491 days in captivity under Hamas in Gaza — underground, chained, starved, isolated, and always just one step away from death. When he was released in February 2025 as part of a cease-fire exchange, he weighed under 100 pounds (about 45 kg) and only then learned of the murders of his brother, wife and daughters.

Sharabi’s recollection is vivid yet unflinching: beginning with the “safe” home space disintegrating into violence and abduction. From there, the narrative moves into Gaza: the underground tunnels, his confinement with a handful of other Israeli hostages, deprivation, and the slow erosion of normalcy. He speaks very openly about the terror of the retaliatory IDF attack on Gaza, the volume and proximity of the explosions, and the fear of being buried alive under rubble or shot by Israeli snipers on the few occasions where his captors transfer him aboveground from one hidden location to another.

Sharabi describes how he and his fellow captives tried to maintain a positive mindset, not through blind optimism, but by clinging to ritual, small gestures, communal bonds, and hope. They turned to each other: teaching and supporting one another. He recounts how a shared book became their only link to the outside, how fresh fruit or an extra portion of stale pitta bread tossed to them by their captors provided fleeting moments of relief. These flashes of humanity amid horror are recurrent motifs.

Perhaps the most striking aspects of the book concern his relationship with his captors. The term “Stockholm Syndrome” is often used when describing the co-dependency that can develop between a hostage and their captor, but Sharabi rejects that term outright. He insists that these relationships emerged purely from a survival instinct: in a heartbeat, whichever side blinked first would die. He didn’t like his captors; he navigated with them. He describes how some of his captors were not hardened Hamas commandos but ordinary, and often young, men trying to make ends meet, even as they were deeply brain-washed. The dual reality — captors as both oppressor and human being— is what gives this narrative its hardest edge.

The charade of the hostage‐release ceremonies is another crucial event portayed in the book. Sharabi recounts being paraded, filmed, used in Hamas propaganda, and handed to the Red Cross in Deir al-Balah in a stage-managed exchange. The memory is bitter: on one hand relief to be free; on the other, awareness of being a pawn in a larger war. Hostage does not end with a simple triumphant return, but rather with a complicated freedom tinged with the tragedy of the realisation of all that he has lost, and a poignant reminder of the hostages that were still in captivity until this just past weekend.

Hostage should be required reading for anyone serious about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Its power lies in its first-person immediacy: it doesn’t happen “somewhere else.” It happens underground, in Gaza, to a normal Israeli husband, father, and citizen who couldn’t foresee what would happen that terrible morning.

If you’re familiar with the acclaimed TV series Fauda (which I am re-watching ahead of its upcoming 5th season next year, and again recommend as required viewing for anyone seriously interested in this subject), you’ll recognise certain thematic overlaps: the tense portrayal of Hamas leadership, the moral complexities of captives and captors, and the all-too-human cost of conflict. Fauda, which debuted in 2015 and has continued through four seasons over ten years, has been criticised for being Israeli military propaganda, but nonetheless offers surprisingly compassionate portrayals of Palestinian characters caught up in survival, ideology and coercion. Like Fauda, Hostage resists simple binaries. The captors are not purely monsters; nor are the captives simply victims. They are humans caught in a brutal system.

In straightforward terms, Hostage is a fast-paced memoir, well-written, intensely personal and emotionally accessible. Sharabi doesn’t hold back the horror, but he also doesn’t wallow in it: focussing instead on day-to-day survival, the mental strategies, the human bonds. I found Sharabi’s reflections on faith, resilience and humanity deeply moving. For me, the most lasting impression is the paradox of connection: the hostage who forms a bond with fellow captives, the captor who shows a moment of kindness, the survivor who begins to rebuild. This seeking to understand or find humanity in the smaller moments doesn’t diminish the evil perpetrated by Sharabi’s captors and Hamas in general. If anything, it heightens the unconscionable cruelty of what has happened by showing us how close humanity and inhumanity can be.

Hostage is more than just another memoir of captivity. It’s a document of our time, rooted in the tragic events of October 7 2023, yet reaching beyond into questions of survival, identity and the human condition. Eli Sharabi’s voice is calm and direct. He writes not as a victim seeking pity, but as a man who lived through hell and made the choice to keep living. In a conflict often defined by abstraction and statistics, this memoir restores the humanity and resilience of one life, and by doing so, illuminates the lives of many more.

Jon Malysiak is the Global Publishing Manager at StoryTerrace, the author of Posh, its forthcoming sequel Trash (or American Carnage), and the literary novel-in-progress Future Truths. For more information about Jon, check out his website: https://jonmalysiak.com/