On a quiet Thursday morning in Jerusalem, the city awoke to a bittersweet milestone in the long and painful saga of the Israel-Hamas war: the remains of Sudthisak Rinthalak, a Thai agricultural worker killed during the October 7, 2023, Hamas-led attack, were finally returned to Israel by militants in Gaza. With this solemn handover, only one hostage, Israeli police officer Ran Gvili, remains unaccounted for under the current ceasefire agreement—a fact that weighs heavily on a nation still reeling from the events of the past two years.
According to The Associated Press and Haaretz, Sudthisak, 42, was working at Kibbutz Be’eri, one of the communities hit hardest on that fateful day. His body was taken by Islamic Jihad militants and, after months of uncertainty, was officially declared dead on May 16, 2024. The return of his remains, confirmed on December 4, 2025, brought a measure of closure to his family and the Thai community, who have endured their own share of suffering throughout the conflict.
“The family has been notified and we thank the Israeli government for their assistance that led to the release of all 31 Thai hostages taken at the start of the war,” said Thai Foreign Ministry spokesperson Nikorndej Balankura, as reported by AP. Of the 31 Thai hostages, 28 were returned alive and three, including Sudthisak, were returned deceased. Thais represented the largest group of foreign nationals held captive during the conflict, and the toll has been devastating: 46 Thai citizens have lost their lives since the war began.
But as one chapter closes, another remains painfully unresolved. The focus now turns to Ran Gvili, a 24-year-old Israeli police officer whose story has become emblematic of both the heroism and heartbreak that have defined this war. Gvili, known affectionately as “Rani,” was killed defending Kibbutz Alumim during the October 7 attack—despite being on medical leave for a broken shoulder. When he heard that militants were attacking the Nova Music Festival, he rushed to the scene, only to be diverted to Alumim, where he joined other responders in a desperate battle to save the kibbutz.
“He fought a heroic battle, saving the lives of the kibbutz members,” reads a sign at the entrance to Kibbutz Alumim, his smiling face immortalized beneath the words “Rani, the Shield of Alumim.” Residents of Alumim credit their survival to men like Gvili, who joined emergency teams, soldiers, and police officers to repel waves of militants. Tragically, not everyone was so fortunate—22 foreign nationals working in agricultural fields outside the kibbutz’s defenses were killed, according to Haaretz.
Gvili’s final moments were marked by courage and selflessness. As described by his mother, Talik Gvili, and fellow officer Sgt. Richard Schechtman, Gvili was at the forefront, even after being wounded in both his leg and arm. “Rani was at the head of the team—because that’s who he was,” Schechtman told Ynet. “He opened fire, and the whole team followed him.” Even after being injured, Gvili continued to warn his team of approaching militants and fought alone until he was ultimately overrun. His body was abducted to Gaza, and Israeli military intelligence confirmed his death four months later.
The return of Gvili’s remains is now the final, crucial step in the first phase of the U.S.-brokered ceasefire plan, a 20-point agreement spearheaded by President Donald Trump. This initial phase, which began on October 10, 2025, mandated the return of all hostages and their remains, the release of thousands of Palestinian prisoners by Israel, and an increase in humanitarian aid shipments to Gaza. So far, 20 living hostages and the remains of 27 others have been returned to Israel, while Israel has released the bodies of hundreds of Palestinians to Gaza—most of whom remain unidentified.
Yet, the ceasefire has been anything but smooth. Both Hamas and Israel have accused each other of violating the truce, and plans for subsequent phases remain uncertain. According to the UN-backed plan, an international security force is supposed to deploy in Gaza to maintain order and ensure the disarmament of Hamas, with an international administration led by President Trump overseeing the territory. But as of now, only Indonesia has publicly prepared troops for potential deployment, and the makeup of the administration is still up in the air.
Meanwhile, violence has continued to flare along Israel’s borders. On December 5, 2025, Israel launched a series of airstrikes in southern Lebanon, targeting what the military described as Hezbollah weapons storehouses. No casualties were reported, but the strikes came after warnings to residents to evacuate and amid ongoing tensions over Hezbollah’s refusal to disarm as long as Israel occupies several border hills and continues its operations.
In Gaza itself, the ceasefire has provided little respite for civilians. On December 4, an Israeli airstrike on a tent encampment in southern Gaza killed five members of a single family, including two children, and wounded 32 others, according to the Kuwait Specialty Hospital. Israel stated the strike was in retaliation for an earlier attack that wounded five Israeli soldiers, claiming that militants had emerged from a tunnel and attacked troops. The scene was described by Aisha Abu Jazar, a neighbor, who told AP, “They fired a missile at a tent made of cloth, plastic, and wood. The children were asleep. What did the children do to deserve being torn apart in their sleep? What did they do to deserve this? We were supposed to be in a ceasefire.”
The human cost of the conflict continues to mount. Gaza’s Health Ministry, which is staffed by medical professionals and is generally regarded as reliable by the international community, reports that Israeli forces have killed 366 Palestinians since the start of the ceasefire. Since the October 7 attack, which killed around 1,200 Israelis and saw more than 250 hostages taken, Israel’s military campaign has resulted in the deaths of more than 70,100 Palestinians, according to the ministry.
For the families of the hostages, the return of remains is more than a political milestone—it’s an intensely personal closure. Gvili’s family, including his mother Talik, father Itzik, brother Omri, and sister Shira, continue to hope for the day they can lay him to rest. “We see all the other families whose sons came back and we see in their eyes that they have relief,” Shira told AP. “This is why it’s so important. Because we want to move on with our life and just remember Rani.”
Yet, there is palpable anxiety that Gvili’s fate could mirror that of others whose remains were never recovered. “We pray, of course, that he will not be another Ron Arad or (Hadar) Goldin,” Itzik Gvili told Kan News. “That we don’t drag it out for many more years.” For now, he says, “As far as I am concerned, until Ran comes back, he is alive. I have nothing else to hope for.”
The road ahead for Gaza and Israel remains uncertain, fraught with political, military, and human challenges. But for the families waiting for closure, and for communities still counting the cost, each returned hostage—living or dead—marks a small step toward healing in a landscape scarred by war.