Einav Tsangauker is harming her son's chances of getting out of Gaza ali

Last night, Einav Tsangauker, the mother of Matan Tsangauker, who was kidnapped and taken to Gaza, blocked the Prime Minister’s convoy as he left the Kirya. This act, widely embraced by hostage advocacy groups, left-wing activists, and the Kaplan protest movement.

There is no doubt that the suffering of these families is immeasurable. But the critical question remains: Is the way some of these families express their pain actually helping their cause—or working against them?

Counterproductive Actions and Their Consequences

What happened last night is not an isolated incident but part of a broader trend in which personal grief fuels activism. When a hostage’s family acts out of emotional distress without a clear strategy, their actions worsen the hostage’s situation rather than improve it. Tsangauker acting out on her pain, like many other parents, is experiencing unimaginable pain. But that pain does not remain private—it spills over into the public, the media, and politics.

By becoming a symbol she has raised the price for the release of her son, and turned her son into the last person who will be released.. Hence the mother is only digging deeper the hole her son is in with her actions - and nobody will tell her this. Protest is a way to express pain—but when it is part of a collective psychosis that does not understand the costs of war and the national strategic objectives it only increases the hostage’s value in the eyes of Hamas.

The mother is acting in a selfish manner, she needs a mechanism of sublimation for the immense grief she is experiencing, and this sublimatory mechanism manifests outwardly, endangering her son's life, and she prefers this mechanism over increasing her son's survival chances - paradoxically she still believes she is fighting for him.. while other hostages who's familes did not become a houshold name have already been released.

The more parents fight publicly and emotionally, the more valuable the hostages become as bargaining chips. Every dramatic public appearance, every roadblock, every demonstration with banners and chants turns the hostage into a strategic asset for Hamas.

And when the hostage becomes more valuable, the price for their release rises. Their chances of being freed decrease, as Hamas pushes them further down the list of those eligible for release, knowing that their families will exert greater pressure on Israel to make larger concessions.

When the Parent’s Interests Overshadow the Hostage’s Survival

This leads to a painful question: Are some families, even if unintentionally, prioritizing their own psychological coping mechanisms over the actual survival of their loved ones?

The anguish, fear, and helplessness create an overwhelming need to do something. But when that "something" results in decisions that reduce the hostage’s chances of survival, is it still justified?

If Matan Tsangauker could see his mother protesting, would he tell her: "Mom, stop!"? Would he plead with her to refrain from turning his name into a high-revenue bargaining tool for Hamas?

A National Strategic Failure

The way Israel has handled the hostage families, and the way they have been weaponized politically, is not just a personal tragedy but a national strategic failure.

Instead of distancing the families from the core of decision-making and providing them with private mechanisms to cope or paid vacations, Israel has dragged them into the heart of the conflict. Instead of conducting negotiations with calculated precision, the growing pressure from public protests has eroded Israel’s bargaining position in every round of talks.

Perhaps the right approach would have been to keep the families away from public discourse, not to abandon them, but to provide them with a framework in which they could process their grief without directly influencing national policy.

A Mechanism of Self-Destruction

What we witnessed last night was not just a mother blocking a Prime Minister’s convoy. It was another symptom of a self-destructive process in which personal grief turns into public spectacle, sometimes at the cost of the very people it seeks to save.

When despair and sorrow become political tools, when families lose control of their message and allow their emotions to dictate their actions, we end up in a paradox where Israel may lose more than it gains.

The pain of the hostage families is real, deep, and unbearable. But the critical question remains: Are their actions truly advancing the release of their loved ones, or are they turning them into even more valuable bargaining chips for Hamas?

When emotion and strategic thinking collide, it is the government's responsibility to set clear boundaries for the protests and prevent them from becoming a force that, in the end, harms those they seek to protect.

But given the weakness of this government no one is surprised this has not happened.