Israelis living near the Gazan border are uncertain whether the four-week war will bring security and stability, let alone peace

Israeli tanks pulled out of Gaza by 8am on Tuesday morning, leaving clouds of dust in their wake. At a cafe close to the border, young soldiers hugged and grinned, slapping each others' backs, relieved perhaps to have survived the war. Kitbags and backpacks were piled on the ground as troops awaited orders to return to their bases or their families.

Apart from the distant buzz of overhead drones, there was quiet – for the first time in weeks, there were no shells, rockets or sirens.

Under the shade of a tree, a group of combat soldiers played backgammon or dozed in the searing August heat. One, who declined to give his name in line with army orders not speak to the media, had been fighting inside Gaza; it was, he said, "hot, smelly, full of bugs. And sometimes scary."

He added: "Part of me is glad it's over; I want to go home and see my parents. But another part of me thinks we should have stayed longer, because Hamas still rules Gaza. They've been damaged and weakened, but they're still there. And Hamas is like a weed, you need to kill the roots or it will grow again."

The lives of young conscript soldiers will inevitably be shaped to some degree by their experiences of this four-week war. For some, their views and loyalties will harden; others will reflect on the terrible cost in human suffering.

None seemed to think the war had ended in victory for Israel. It was too messy, too uncertain, and – some said – too many people had died. "I feel bad about all the dead people, but it's a war, what can you do?" said the soldier lounging beneath the tree.

Another, who had spent the past month in a support unit on the border, said: "Was it worth it? No, nothing is worth the lives of soldiers, and women and children in Gaza. The Hamas warriors, they deserved to die. This was a war, after all."

In the small communities dotted close to the border with Gaza, an older generation expressed relief that the fighting was over but uncertainty whether the future would bring security and stability, let alone peace.

Sarah Jane Landsman, who has lived in Kibbutz Alumim, a few kilometres from the border, for 28 years, said she was glad the threat of cross-border attack from Hamas-built tunnels had "hopefully been neutralised for the time being" but was less certain whether what Israelis call "quiet" would prevail.

"Something had to be done. We can't just sit here under attack, we have to react. But if we don't have partners on the other side, we can't make peace," she said. "Maybe there are people in Gaza – mothers, like me – who want peace, but they are so institutionalised by Hamas they can't speak up. In the longer term, I don't know what the solution is."

Even closer to the border, in Kibbutz Nahal Oz, the scene of a tunnel attack last week in which five Israeli soldiers were killed, Dov Hartuv said he was optimistic.

"But I have a lot of experience," he added, "and I know it now depends on the politicians. I don't what will come out [of ceasefire negotiations], or if we will go back to square one."

He described the past month on the kibbutz where he has lived since 1961 as "unpleasant to say the least. We've had shells coming from both sides, we've heard drones, planes, guns and mortars. We've been in the midst of it."

Both sides would have to make concessions in the negotiations, he said, but added: "The problem is we don't speak the same language, and I don't mean Hebrew or Arabic. "Their way of looking at life is completely different to our way of thinking. I feel terrible about the loss of life, and I realise that our 64 [soldiers] dead doesn't compare to theirs if you're just talking numbers. But you can't compare the two sides equally."

Asked if he meant life was more expendable in Gaza, he said: "It seems to be the case."

Yoaz Berger, who remembers when Palestinians from Gaza used to enter Israel daily to work in his nearby construction business before the border closed about 10 years ago, said he hoped the fighting was over. "But only God knows – and I'm not sure he can be certain. Have we won or lost? That's a philosophical question.

"I don't think winning or losing is the point. The point is: how can we live in peace?"

Much depended on the outcome of this week's scheduled negotiations in Cairo, according to Alex Fishman, a military analyst writing in Israel's biggest-selling paper, Yedioth Ahronoth.

"Each side will present its fundamental demands: they will talk about building a port, about releasing prisoners, about building an airfield etc, while Israel will talk about demilitarising the Gaza Strip … Is this a happy ending? Not at all. We will meet again in the next round."