“Gaza Will Be Destroyed”: The Chief of Staff’s Wife Breaks Her Silence on October 7
In a rare and emotional interview, Sharon Halevi — wife of former IDF Chief of Staff Herzi Halevi — opened up for the first time about the terrifying moments of October 7, the crushing weight of responsibility, and the unbearable pain of war. And, through tears, she asked for forgiveness.
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Appearing on the podcast “U’Vacharta Ba’Chayim” hosted by Tomer Zisser — widow of Lt. Colonel Ilai Zisser who was killed on October 7 — Sharon Halevi gave voice to a silence that had lasted nearly a year. It was a powerful, personal reckoning, steeped in heartbreak.
“I want to ask you for forgiveness. Forgiveness,” she said, weeping. “I feel the need to ask forgiveness because your future with Ilai was taken away. Ilai was killed on my husband’s watch.”
Her voice cracked, but her words were clear. “There wasn’t a single day in Herzi’s life where he was arrogant or careless about anything,” she said. “But I still believe there must be a state commission of inquiry. Not for blame — but so our children and grandchildren don’t learn what happened from random news alerts. So we can truly learn and move forward.”
She continued:
“I wish things were different. But given that this is what happened, I’m still grateful it was Herzi in that chair. Even if we carry this pain for the rest of our lives — we will carry it with responsibility, and a desire to fix what must be fixed.”
“Gaza Will Be Destroyed”: The Words She Can’t Forget
Earlier in the interview, Halevi recounted the moment she understood — long before any official report — that a national disaster was unfolding. Her husband had left home early that holiday morning. He didn’t say much. He just kissed her, kissed the children, grabbed his tefillin, and turned to her with two words:
“Gaza will be destroyed.”
“That’s when I knew,” she said. “He only took his tefillin when it was serious. When he said that, my heart sank.”
She spent the rest of that day protecting her children from the horrors of the outside world. “They were still playing basketball at five in the afternoon,” she said. “That’s how much I was trying to shield them. I didn’t understand everything myself yet. I told them not to watch any videos. Even now, I’ve only seen one.”
This wasn’t just an interview. It was a national moment of truth. A widow and a general’s wife — bonded by grief, divided by fate — facing the unbearable. Together.