Can Trump save hostage Edan Alexander from Hamas? Here's what we know

Adi Alexander sits in his New Jersey home, a world away from the Gaza Strip where his son, Edan Alexander, the last living American hostage held by Hamas, has suffered over 500 days of captivity and torture. A dual U.S.-Israeli citizen and soldier, Edan was seized on October 7, 2023, from his post at the Kissufim Crossing during Hamas’s devastating attack that ignited the ongoing war. Now, as fighting flares anew, Adi clings to hope in President Donald Trump’s administration to bring his son home, even as he wrestles with the stalled efforts of Israel’s government under Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.

In an interview with the Associated Press on Friday, Adi refrained from directly blaming Netanyahu for the failure to secure phase two of a January ceasefire deal that promised Edan’s release. “I don’t want to get into who came first, the egg or the chicken,” he said, sidestepping the bitter debates that have swirled around Israel’s negotiation strategy. Instead, he cast his gaze toward Washington, where Trump has taken a vocal stance on freeing hostages since reclaiming the White House in January 2025. “Just keep this job going,” Adi urged the administration, praising the President’s clarity compared to what he sees as Israel’s muddled approach.

Edan’s ordeal is a grim chapter in the Israel-Gaza war. Hamas, the Palestinian militant group designated a terrorist organization by the U.S. and Israel, abducted over 250 individuals on October 7, including eight Americans. Most were freed in a November 2023 truce, but Edan remains among the 59 still held—many feared dead—enduring starvation, isolation, and torture at the hands of sheer evil people. ” A November 2024 video released by Hamas showed Edan alive but gaunt, his voice strained as he spoke, a calculated move in the group’s psychological warfare campaign against Israel and the hostages’ families.

The ceasefire Adi pins his hopes on began in January 2025, brokered after Trump’s inauguration with U.S. envoy Adam Boehler (who has since been removed from working with the Hamas hostages) leading talks alongside Special Envoy Steve Witkoff. Phase one saw dozens of hostages swapped for Palestinian prisoners and a temporary halt in fighting—an achievement Trump touted as proof of restored American leverage. Phase two, meant to free Edan and others, never materialized. Adi believes both sides grew complacent, letting momentum slip until hostilities resumed last week with Israeli airstrikes and Hamas rocket fire shattering the fragile calm. “Somebody had to shake this tree to create chaos,” he said. “Chaos creates opportunities. The only objective is getting back to the table to free those people.”

That chaos erupted after Hamas announced on March 15 that it would release Edan and the bodies of four American hostages: Omer Neutra, Itay Chen, Judith Weinstein Haggai, and Gad Haggai, all killed in captivity or during the initial attack. The statement rang hollow to Adi, the U.S., and Israel. “It didn’t feel serious,” Adi said, echoing official skepticism about Hamas’s sincerity absent formal negotiation channels. He remains in daily contact with Witkoff, who has briefed families on the diplomatic tightrope they walk with Hamas, Qatar, and Egypt as intermediaries.

Israel’s role in the impasse is a sensitive topic. Netanyahu has faced criticism at home and abroad for prioritizing military pressure over diplomacy, a stance some argue hardened after Trump’s election bolstered his coalition. The Israeli leader has vowed to destroy Hamas and retrieve all hostages, alive or dead—a dual mission that stalled phase two when Hamas demanded a full IDF withdrawal from Gaza, a condition Israel rejected. Adi, though, avoids casting blame, focusing instead on Trump’s influence. Since taking office, the President has leaned on his relationships with Middle Eastern leaders and his “maximum pressure” approach to Iran—Hamas’s key backer—signaling a tougher line than his predecessor, Joe Biden, whose tenure saw negotiations falter.

For Adi, the personal toll is excruciating. Edan, just 19 when captured, volunteered for the IDF after moving to Israel with his family as a teen, embodying the dual identity that now binds two nations to his fate. The last glimpse of him came in that November video, a fleeting sign of life after months of silence. “Over 500 days,” Adi said, the weight of each one etched in his voice. “He’s been through hell.” The renewed fighting—sparked by Israeli strikes on Hamas targets and retaliatory rockets—only deepens the urgency.

As Adi waits, he sees Trump as the linchpin, a leader whose deal-making instincts might jolt the process back to life. Whether that hope bears fruit amid Gaza’s unrelenting violence remains uncertain, but for a father staring down an abyss, it’s the lifeline he grips with both hands.

Arutz Sheva contributed to this article.