From Aman to Khamenei

In the epilogue of his work “A History of the Jews”, Paul Johnson writes, among other thoughts:

“There is nothing that can properly be called providence. Nevertheless, human confidence in historical dynamics, if intense and sufficiently tenacious, is in itself a force that presses upon the course of events and propels them. The Jews have believed that they were a special people, and they have believed it with such unanimity and passion and for such a prolonged period that they have become so. They have had a role because they created one for themselves.”

This closing passage, as quoted above, has always lingered with me. My attempt to paraphrase his idea would be something like this: Jewish history records Jewish self-perception from Antiquity to the present day. The facts exist, but they are secondary; the ultimate aim is to explain the meaning of our existence. We are our history, even if we neglected writing that genre for two thousand years. As soon as we had the opportunity, we began writing it again. That is what we are doing now.

The coincidence of the elimination of Ayatollah Khamenei in Iran (formerly Persia) with the celebration of Purim on the Hebrew calendar—when the death of the “wicked” Haman and the salvation of the Persian Jews from annihilation is commemorated—raises the question: is any resemblance to current events a mere coincidence? Beyond historical clarifications (the Jews are no longer in Persia, there is no king to persuade or seduce—although many associate Nebuchadnezzar with Trump—and victory today comes not through rhetoric but through force), it is tempting and very meaningful to construct a parallel between events separated by twenty five hundred years.

Much can be said about Queen Esther and her uncle Mordechai, and about the ambiguous narrative of the Book of Esther. One thing is indisputable: those Jews back then took their destiny into their own hands. Unlike their ancestors who left Egypt by the “outstretched arm” of God (that will be commemorated in a month; it is another fascinating story, never historically proven, and yet foundational). Similarly, much can be said about Netanyahu and his ranks: with no small amount of rhetoric but with the ‘outstretched arm’ of the IDF, the Jews are once again taking our destiny into our own hands. In contemporary terms, this is called “Zionism”: an updated version of Judaism—not that earlier versions are incompatible…

If the enemy knows when to strike because they study our history and tradition, why should we not know when to act—and above all, how to value the moment and the opportunity, allowing ourselves the symbolic force of an unprecedented event? It is not always possible. When it is, we should not waste it.

The Nazis understood that destroying Jewish books (Kristallnacht, 1938) was a lethal blow to Judaism. Sadat knew that attacking on Yom Kippur would be a lethal blow to Israel. Sinwar understood this on Simchat Torah, #Oct7. I doubt that Ayatollah Khamenei and his followers were paying attention to Purim, but surely Bibi, with his legion of supporters, was aware of the symbolism. As a worthy heir to his family tradition, he referred more to Trumpeldor’s roaring lion than to Purim—but one cannot have everything.

Ultimately, beyond names and specific events, everything has taken place on the eve of Purim, and History, even if it does not repeat itself exactly, certainly resembles itself. It is the work of thousands of anonymous individuals flying aircrafts and safeguarding infrastructure; all of them would surely prefer to be home celebrating Purim and drinking until reality blurs. This year, that is not possible: it was time to carry out Purim, not to celebrate it.

Since #Oct7 (2023), if not earlier, I have claimed that after nearly eighty years which we were almost unreal in terms of Jewish History, we have once again entered a challenging and dangerous era. #Oct7 left Israel vulnerable, wounded, and traumatized, and exposed the entire Jewish people. After a long century of national and religious redemption, we are being questioned to our very foundations, as in the first century CE. We are being protagonists in the worst part of Jewish history—a part (the longest one) that we believed we had left behind. The “Third Temple,” Israel, is threatened; our way of life is threatened; and we ourselves have succumbed to the same divisive dynamic that contributed to disaster two thousand years ago.

Yet, we cannot only celebrate Purim—we can live it. It is happening. Our cheers and our boos are not for events of the distant past (which, as Johnson notes, we stubbornly insist on bringing into the present), but for events unfolding before our eyes, carried out by our leaders (whether we like them a lot, little, or not at all) and by our brothers and sisters in Israel. This Purim of 5786 is very special. Very special indeed, very serious. A Purim to be remembered twenty five hundred years from now.

Because this is Jewish History, this is identity—and it is happening to us, now.

Happy Purim! (In spite of everything)