It is difficult to ignore the parallels between the looming threat of a regional war with the regime in Iran and the story of Purim. In fact, these last two and a half years have been filled with so many biblical parallels that they are almost becoming a cliché.
Purim, which begins this year on March 2, commemorates the Jewish people's survival from a genocidal plot in ancient Persia, as told in the Book of Esther. King Ahasuerus ruled the Persian Empire. After removing his queen, Vashti, he chose a new queen, Esther, who was Jewish, though she initially kept her identity secret. The king's top official, Haman, was elevated to a position of power and demanded that everyone bow to him. Mordechai, a Jewish leader who was also Esther's cousin, refused to bow.
This enraged Haman so much that his anger was not just targeted at Mordechai. He plotted to annihilate all the Jews of the Persian empire. He used an ancient form of drawing lots, similar to rolling dice, to choose the date for their destruction, called "purim" in Persian, and convinced the king to issue a decree authorizing it.
Most of us know how the story continues. Mordechai urges his niece, Esther, the new queen, to intervene and save the Jews, convincing her to approach the king without being summoned to plead the case for all the Jews. Doing so is an act that could have resulted in her death. When Esther hesitates, fearing the consequences, Mordechai sends back a warning recorded in the Megillah that I believe is one of the most powerful lines in any Jewish text. He tells her, "Do not think that because you are in the king's palace, you alone of all the Jews will escape. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father's house will perish. And who knows whether it was for just such a time as this that you attained royalty?"
Mordechai is essentially telling Esther that she will not be spared simply because she is queen. The Jewish people will somehow survive, but if she turns her back on her community, she may not. He implies that she was placed in this position for the very purpose of saving her people.
This lesson is one of the aspects of Purim that resonates most deeply with being Jewish today. Something we rarely consider is that at the time of Haman's decree, no one knew Esther was Jewish. All the Jews understood was that they were facing annihilation, with no certainty that someone inside the palace could or would intervene.
That thought was shared with me on Purim in 2024, before Iran launched any direct attacks against Israel. There was deep fear and uncertainty about what an attack might look like. Someone said to me that we have no idea what higher force might be protecting us, perhaps even from within Iran itself. Just as Esther was positioned to protect the Jewish people from annihilation, we cannot know what may be unfolding inside the regime to prevent our destruction.
Months later, on July 31, 2024, Ismail Haniyeh, the senior Hamas political leader, was assassinated in Tehran. Reports stated that a bomb had been smuggled into his guesthouse and detonated while he was inside. In December 2024, Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz publicly confirmed Israel's responsibility for the assassination.
Then, during the 12-Day War with Iran in June 2025, we saw how deeply Israel's intelligence agency, Mossad, had infiltrated the regime, marking one of the most significant penetrations in its history. Israeli reports indicated that around one hundred agents and recruited operatives were deployed inside Iran, some equipped with precision systems used to disable air defenses and assist Israeli strikes against nuclear and missile infrastructure.
I will never forget my awe when I watched footage of Mossad operatives deploying explosive drone systems inside Iran. Israel did not only strike major blows to the regime's infrastructure and nuclear facilities. It disrupted the regime from within its own command structure.
That is why the story of Purim feels so close today.
When the decree went out in ancient Persia, the Jews believed they were alone. They did not know there was someone in the palace. They did not know what was unfolding behind closed doors. They only knew the threat was real.
Today, we face a comparable existential danger from the regime in Iran, a regime rebuilding missiles, expanding its military reach, and warning that any attack could trigger widespread retaliation. Iranian missile forces remain potent, and analysts warn that renewed confrontation could be even deadlier than the 12-day war last year.
But unlike in Shushan, we are not powerless. The Jewish people are no longer scattered and defenseless subjects of an empire. We have sovereignty. We have strength. We have the ability to defend ourselves and shape our own future.
And still, just as then, we do not see everything happening behind the curtain.
Purim reminds us that even in moments that feel as though they stand on the brink, history can turn. What appears inevitable rarely is. Unseen courage, preparation, and resolve can alter the course of events.
This is an unusual and uncertain time. But it is also a time unlike any other in Jewish history, a time in which we are not waiting to be saved.
We are writing the ending ourselves.
And like every chapter before, we will get through this one, too.
