The Imperative of Staying Alive: Purim 2024
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
The contributions of the Jewish People to civilization, throughout our history, have been immeasurable. From literature and literacy to music, art and entertainment; from philosophy and theology to business and law; from science and math to medicine, technology and the general betterment of humanity and all life—these are but some of the fields we have excelled in. The world today is unthinkable without past and present Jewish involvement and impact.
Through the centuries, when new lands and territories were opened, Jews were invited to play a part in their development. In the 9th century, Charlemagne brought Jewish merchants and scholars from Egypt and Iraq and settled them in France and Germany. Five hundred years later, King Casimir III of Poland, known as “the Great,” opened the eastern borderlands to “western” influence, enabling his kingdom to flourish from its interactions with Jews, who in turn found safe haven there from the Crusades, massacres and expulsions that were their fate in Western Europe.
On the heels of the Spanish Inquisition, Jews opened trade routes to the Far East and the New World, establishing important and thriving Jewish communities in Curacao and Cuba, as well as in Goa and Sumatra.
The number of Jewish Nobel Prize winners, representing the highest achievement in their chosen fields, is almost matched by the number of military heroes—from King David and Judah the Maccabee to Bar Kochba, general of a Jewish army that withstood the largest and most powerful army of the ancient world—the Romans—for three long years. After the destruction of Judea, Jewish fighters continued to reach officer ranks in other countries. In the 1300’s, a Jew, Samuel ibn Naghrilla, aka Shmuel Ha-Nagid, led the Muslim army of Grenada for 17 years. Alfred Dreyfuss, the French-Jewish officer at the heart of the antisemitic scandal that inspired Herzl to found modern Zionism, was only one of thousands of Jews who, in the mid-1800’s, served their countries as a sign of national, cultural and political allegiance.
But for more than 2000 years, one calling was always forbidden the Jews—self-defense. We could help defend others, but not ourselves.
The story of Jewish self-defense ends with the Romans in the year 135.
After that, even the Hanukkah story of the military victory of Judah the Maccabee over the Greeks, was minimized. Relegated to the status of a “minor” holiday, Hanukkah was reduced to a child’s tale about a small can of oil that miraculously lasted for eight nights. Out of caution and fear, the ancient rabbis eliminated from their retold tales the story of the fierce battles that Judah and his brothers led, leaving in only the personal sacrifices they had to make in an effort to remain Jewish and keep Judaism alive.
The story of how Jewish privateers helped defend first Portuguese, then Dutch and British merchant and naval fleets, is not one we learn about in public or Jewish schools, yet is an important factor in modern European and early American history. Their stories have been popularized only recently, in the charmingly titled book by Edward Kritzler, Jewish Pirates of the Caribbean, described condescendingly on the Amazon website as “the tale of an unlikely group of swashbuckling Jews who ransacked the high seas.” Yet it’s a story that we should all be made aware of.
Of course, in modern times there are many stories of Jewish heroes and heroism. Jewish soldiers distinguished themselves in many battles and wars all over the world, including the Civil War here in America.
Yet the heroism of the Jewish soldiers who have fought for the right of the State of Israel to exist and thrive, is mostly silenced—except to their families and nation. Israel’s wars against terror and aggression have all too quickly turned into blood-libel accusations of genocide and massacres. “Certainly Israel has the right to defend [itself], but not to revenge,” is the latest statement from the European Union’s foreign policy chief with regards to the war against the terror organization Hamas. Meanwhile Canada has declared an embargo on selling weapons to Israel—though evidently buying military equipment from Israel, as it has, massively, in recent years, is OK. Next week’s edition of The Economist will feature on its cover the flag of Israel and the headline “Israel Alone,” highlighting Israel’s isolation from the rest of the world’s “civilized” nations.
Never mind that it isn’t Israel, but Hamas, that broke the ceasefire that held until October 6; never mind that Hamas calls specifically for the destruction of Israel. Never mind that immediately following the atrocities it committed on October 7, Hamas has vowed to repeat it "7 times, 10 times, a million times" over. And never mind that every bullet fired by an Israeli soldier is reviewed by a special court, and every bombing from the air is previewed by a special unit whose responsibility it is to ensure there are no children in a playground nearby.
The moral dilemma that every Israeli—soldier and civilian alike—faces every morning, day and night, is the painful and tragic knowledge that there are innocent victims in this war. And that is the opposite of genocide. Israel’s army strictly adheres to international laws of conventional warfare. We know of course that accidents happen, because the context of all war is chaos and bloodshed. There have always been, and always will be, innocent victims. But that is not genocide, especially knowing that Hamas uses its own population as human shields; shoots rockets from mosques, apartment buildings, kindergartens, schools and even cemeteries, and burrows its headquarters under hospitals, in the cynical knowledge that Israel would be reluctant to raid or bomb these. Because one thing that characterizes Jews in general and the State of Israel in particular is that we sanctify life, not death.
What we have here actually is a modern-day Persian empire—Iran—its power swaying with the winds, exercising tyranny over—who else—the Jews, with a Haman—Yahya Sinwar—as a saber-wielding puppet on a string, along with Hezbollah in Lebanon and the Houthis in Yemen flailing their limp arms and chanting “Death to the Big Satan, death to the Little Satan.”
It’s funny, but with all our annual purimspiels and carnivals, with all our telling and retelling of “the whole Megillah”—the Scroll of Esther—we always leave out one little detail: The aftermath. In our hurry to get to chapter 9, where Mordechai and Esther mandate that Purim be an annual observance, we skip Chapter 8 almost wholly. What we leave out is the self-defense part. The part where, over two days, the Jews stand up and fight back. We barely mention, in an undertone as it were, the number of murderers, rapists and pillagers still intent on killing the Jews and seizing our property, whose fate is turned around on those very days and who are instead killed by Jews standing up for themselves in defiance and self-defense—510 on the first day, 75,300 on the second (and being scrupulous about taking no loot).
It's as though we are ashamed of what we had done, of what had to be done to stay alive.
Or perhaps that we know better. The world doesn’t like powerful Jews. It ostracizes and isolates us; it BDS’s us and condemns us in the marble halls of the UN and the EU, on college campuses, in “progressive” guilds and raucous, hate-filled social media.
What we as well as the rest of the world need to remember is that Jews haven’t always been victims. That may be the way the world would prefer to see us. But sometimes, just sometimes, we fight back. And this year is one of those times.
The world at large may not like that, but sooner rather than later it will forget all that, because as much as the world likes to pity us, it needs us. It needs the advancements to humanity that Israel and the Jews offer. It needs our business and resourcefulness. It needs our constant reminders about true justice and just morality. It needs us and our constant commitment to life, health and well-being.
Much more than it needs the chaos, destruction and suffering that Hamas and its allies advocate.
And that’s worth fighting for.
In the end, Purim isn’t only a holiday set aside for miracles and rejoicing. It’s about staying alive; it’s about strengthening and deepening our Jewish identity; it’s about standing up for our basic human right to live in safety and peace, free from bigotry and persecution. May we always remember that. May this Purim find us more united, more determined and more dedicated to the all-important cause of keeping Judaism alive.
© 2024 by Boaz D. Heilman
