Purim portents

According to the Oxford dictionary, a portent is “a sign or warning that something, especially momentous or calamitous, is likely to happen.”

As we approach this year’s celebration of Purim, which commemorates the defeat of a genocidal plan to wipe out the Jews of the ancient Persian Empire, it seems like déjà vu is returning all over again.

This past Shabbat’s main topic of conversation in synagogues, apart from the weekly portion of the week, was speculation as to when, not if the Jew/Zionist/Israel haters of Iran will be confronted.

One of our neighbours, a former resident of Melbourne, suggested in the spirit of Purim (the Festival of Lots) that we should organise a Melbourne Cup-style sweepstake guessing the date “the balloon might go up.”

Although the international mainstream media delights in portraying negative generalisations, it would be grossly inaccurate to describe the mood among worshippers as one of doom and gloom.

Nobody is minimising or dismissing the unfolding situation, but at the same time, resilience and faith in the ultimate outcome are to the fore. There is a general determination by most to weather the impending storm, and this is where the historical events of Purim play a crucial part.

We have frequently been in this situation before, during our long and torturous experiences with the forces of hate.

The most recent occurrence was during the Gulf War, which started in August 1990. Saddam Hussein fired Scud missiles at Israel, and there were fears that they might contain chemical weapons. Sealed rooms and gas masks provided elementary protection but, in hindsight, were mainly psychological rather than truly effective precautions.

Our oldest son made Aliyah (one year ahead of us) during this time and arrived at Ben Gurion airport as the rockets started flying. His arrival in Israel included receiving a gas mask and being interviewed by a journalist who wanted to know why this “mad Kiwi” was immigrating to Israel in the midst of a war.  As he arrived, tourists and others were heading in the opposite direction.

In what many people still today view as a “sign from above” the war ended on 28 February 1991 which happened to be the day of Purim.

The dictator of Iraq, who had vowed to murder all Israelis, was defeated, although his poisonous jihadist hate and incitement still lingered and eventually mutated to infect other countries.

The annual festivities surrounding this Jewish observance are a sharp reminder that nothing much has changed since the time that Haman and his cohorts plotted and schemed to destroy all Jews living in the lands ruled by Persia.

There are similarities and differences that make today’s looming confrontation very relevant.

Although the Purim saga took place in the 5^th Century BCE, it is amazing how some of the events resonate in our own era.

The Jewish community of Persia at that time lived in a bubble of complacency, believing that their future was secure and that their place in society was guaranteed.

They had the opportunity of returning to Judea. In 538 BCE, Cyrus authorised the Jews to return to their ancient homeland. However, only a very small minority took the opportunity to do so. The majority elected to remain in the Persian Empire, thus creating the first voluntary Diaspora community.

Life was comfortable, and economic prospects were much better. The challenge of dangerous travel to Judea and the economic prospects there presented seemingly insurmountable difficulties. For the majority of Jews, staying put and enjoying the “good life” was much more preferable.

The furthest thought from the minds of those Persian Jews was the possibility that one day there would be a situation whereby their seemingly safe and secure existence might be threatened.

Imagine, therefore, the dismay, shock and trauma which suddenly developed when a rabid Jew hater by the name of Haman was appointed Prime Minister. King Ahasuerus, the head of state, was more interested in enjoying a lavish lifestyle and had no interest in looking after the welfare of his subjects. Haman and his followers were therefore free to pursue their Jew hating incitement and policies.

It is notable how easily and quickly the delegitimisation of the Jews was able to spread unchecked throughout the empire. A once “lucky country” for the Jews rapidly deteriorated into a life threatening situation.

Fortunately, a Jewish leader arose who grasped the dire situation facing the community. He devised a plan to subvert the evil influence and intentions of Haman and his colleagues. Taking advantage of the King’s weaknesses, he arranged for Esther to infiltrate the court, and the rest is history.

It is noteworthy that in the end, the Jews were permitted to defend themselves and thwart the nefarious genocidal plans from being implemented. Haman and his gang of followers were defeated and we have celebrated this every year since that time.

The lessons of these past events are relevant today.

The question is whether we will learn from them and act accordingly.

Currently, we face a regime in modern-day Persia that is plotting to destroy the restored Jewish nation. The Islamic usurpers of Iran are following the same agenda.

Where are today’s Mordechai and Esther, and who will be able to thwart the evil designs of the latest crop of Jew haters?

Like their ancestors of old, those Jews who remained in Iran after the fall of the Shah now find themselves in dire peril. Instead of fearless leadership, the community is now hostage to life-threatening fanatics, and any sign of opposition is fatal. Jewish leaders, religious and lay, are forced to denounce Israel and Zionists and pledge allegiance to a regime that oppresses its citizens.

Once again, those who refused to act in time have found themselves trapped and targeted. They have no possibility of defending and saving themselves. They cannot fight back and can now only look to salvation coming from other sources.

We currently await further developments, which may or may not determine whether there will be a Purim-like outcome.

The rapid descent of ancient Persian Jewry from valued members of society to pariahs and scapegoats has startlingly clear implications currently for Diaspora communities and Israel.

We are witnessing the same phenomena being enacted.

Countries that were perceived to be safe havens for Jews have changed with alarming rapidity. Places that once offered economic security have all of a sudden deteriorated to an alarming extent.

Societies which provided law and order and personal safety have faced increasing crime and lawlessness.

Political parties in democratic nations have steadily been subverted by rabid anti-Israel and anti-Jewish policies.

Lax border controls have allowed a major influx of populations from Jew hating societies. This, in turn, has had major implications in those countries where elections can be determined by ethnicity.

Jews on every continent are facing the negative ramifications of all of the above, and as so often has been the case in the past, they are in many cases, endangered.

Israel, as the resurrected nation state of the Jewish People, is the target of humanity’s longest surviving virus.

Like the Jews of Shushan and the Persian Empire, Israelis can and do fight back against the rising tide of incitement and hate. Elsewhere, this battle is a losing proposition because the countermeasures are usually ineffective and half-hearted. Relying on promises and guarantees of safety in the face of changing demographic realities has proven to be a failure.

Educating the masses who don’t want to be confused by facts and are increasingly influenced by social media and AI scams is a frustrating exercise.

The lessons from that dark era are lost as the Shoah recedes from memory and its unique Purim-like plot to eliminate Jews is diluted by revisionists.

Zionaphobia has become the standard stance of a rapidly growing sector of the population.

Unlike previous generations, however, we have the means to combat this plague.

Will we internalise the experiences of Purim and act before it is too late?

Michael Kuttner is a Jewish New Zealander who for many years was actively involved with various communal organisations connected to Judaism and Israel. He now lives in Israel and is J-Wire’s correspondent in the region.