A Second Purim of War
BY RABBANIT RACHELLE SPRECHER FRAENKEL
Last year, we grappled with the nature of evil, with Amalekite wickedness and its manifestations as a trait of dark malevolence and hatred toward Israel. We discussed how, despite our limited understanding of evil’s role in the world, our mission remains clear: “Those who love G-d must hate evil.” We must fight evil to its end.
We spoke of our obligation to erase Amalek – not literally “from man to woman, from child to infant,” but as was done to the Nazi regime: eliminating its institutions of power and symbols, its ability to spread and implement evil. We struggled with the command to be joyful when surrounded by so much sorrow, worry, and uncertainty.
How is this Purim different from last year’s?
The broader picture reveals divine assistance on a biblical scale. The Hezbollah monster was no paper tiger but a threatening, fierce beast that, with G-d’s help, we managed to overcome through Providence and strategy. Syria, once an exceptionally cruel regime, crumbled before our eyes. The ruins of Gaza echo King David’s words: “His mischief shall return upon his own head, and his violence (in Hebrew: his hamas) shall come down upon his own crown” (Tehillim 7:16). Yet the arm of evil is not fully broken, and Hamas’ rule not completely erased.
We rejoice with many hostages who have returned from captivity while remaining determined to bring back dozens more to life, rehabilitation, and sadly, some to proper Jewish burial. After last year’s initial shock – the antisemitism that erupted even before Israel fired a single shell at Gaza, the waves of hatred that swept through cities and campuses – this year, as humans tend to adapt, the pressure has subsided. However, many Jews in the Diaspora are saying, perhaps for the first time in decades, that their time there may be limited. The countdown has begun.
There is one more significant change: Today’s powerful empire has a new ruler. Jews worldwide watch and wonder: Will this ‘king’ be like Koresh or like Achashveirosh? Does he herald redemption, sovereignty, and renewed building, or is he a capricious ruler in whom we shouldn’t place too much hope?
Rabbi Soloveitchik warns us against relying too heavily on temporary salvations and forgetting our vulnerability: “If circumstances can change so rapidly, literally overnight, if the chief minister who yesterday enjoyed the king’s absolute trust can suddenly be condemned and executed, then who is wise enough to guarantee that such an irrational, absurd, neurotic change of mood won’t repeat itself? The Megillah tells of human vulnerability, particularly Jewish vulnerability. Its events defy logic – a king condemns hundreds of thousands to death without asking their identity, then days later distances himself from the entire affair.”
This carries a universal message, certainly a Jewish one: the vulnerability and fleeting joy of the Purim salvation stands in contrast to history-changing events where joy is deep and eternal – the Exodus, becoming a nation, and receiving the Torah. Yet this important message itself is a galut Torah – like the entire Megillah – written by Jews in exile, for Jews in exile, centered on fundamental issues of Jewish existence in Diaspora conditions.
A famous quote from Rabbi Lichtenstein uses a sports metaphor, saying that regarding the stadium of Jewish history we all inhabit, one must decide whether to be in the arena or a spectator. We’ve learned that events of great significance to the Jewish people occur in various diasporas, and there are Jewish lives and responsibilities of great importance for Jews in exile. The question seems to be what historical role Jews will learn from and with the new ruler. Will it be a message of vulnerability and fragility at the hands of a capricious Achashveirosh, or will their renewed response to the return to Zion open an opportunity for him to grow into his role and become a modern Koresh? Unlike our ancestors in Shushan, we are not merely spectators awaiting the whims of foreign rulers. The modern Jewish state has demonstrated both its strength and its reliance on Divine Providence, even as Diaspora communities face renewed uncertainties. This Purim calls us to embrace both realities: the enduring vulnerability and the unprecedented agency we possess in shaping our destiny. Whether today’s ‘king’ emerges as Koresh or Achashveirosh may matter less than how we ourselves choose to write the next chapter of Jewish history – not just as survivors of others’ plots, but as active authors of our own redemption.
Rabbanit Rachelle Sprecher Fraenkel is a Yoetzet Halacha and Senior Scholar at Nishmat, and Head of Hilcheta advanced Halacha studies at Matan.