It’s Time We Jews Unmask Purim’s Dark Truths

ed note an extremely revealing Op Ed that all need to consider down to the cellular level when understanding the Judaic mind and what it has wrought upon the civilized world today.

Keep in mind that Purim is not some recently added feast such as ‘Hollerco$t Remembrance Day’. It has been around for thousands of years, sitting there as an open secret to be studied, analyzed, and quantified in getting a better grasp as to how the eternal menace thinks and the behavior that inevitably must emanate from this thinking. At its heart, it is the BIBLICAL, not Talmudic, tale of Judaic revenge, violence, mass murder, deception, prostitution and the penetration–no pun intended–of a political system using a woman’s sexuality as the bait.

And, as our esteemed Hebraic author makes clear, the precedent for doing this goes all the way back to the beginning of the affair–Abraham and Sarah. The story told in Genesis–the very first book of the Torah, mind you–of the manner by which Abraham utilized his wife Sarah’s sexual organ as a means of climbing the political ladder is a lesson for all peoples at all times, in that it sets the precedent for Jewish interests utilizing these very same methods in plying their craft.

Notice too, as our esteemed Hebraic author points out, that Esther was already married to Mordechai, said to be her cousin, just as Sarah was married to Abraham who was described in the book of Genesis as her ‘half brother’, indicating 2 things–

1. That Jews have the precedent as handed down by their various patriarchs–of selling THEIR OWN WIVES into prostitution if it benefits them in personal ways political or mercantile.

What it also reveals–although on a secondary level–is that incest has always been an issue with them as a people and therefore, given what we know today about the mental problems that attend those ‘closed’ communities where this practice is common, this fact goes a long way towards better understanding why the Judaic mindset is as plagued as it is with mental issues, a fact attested to by Jewish interests themselves in the various periodicals they often write dealing with the various mental illnesses that plague them as a people.

But perhaps the most revealing thing with which the reader walks away better understanding is the manner in which our esteemed Hebraic author completely misses the bigger issue surrounding Purim and what it signifies on a geo-political scale. For her, it is all about sexual harassment and the manner by which Jewish women have been exploited in furthering the interests–both political and business–of Jewish men, completely missing the much more problematic issue dealing with the fact that at its heart, Purim is the Judaic celebration of the slaughter of 75,000 Persians by Judaic terrorists, manifested today in the practice of Jews eating pastries said to resemble the body parts and internal organs of their Persian enemies, all of which conditions the Judaic mind towards the acceptance of mass murder, deception, and terrorism in furthering the aims of Judea. 

The Jewish Daily Forward

God is missing from the Purim megillah. This is disturbing and adds to the moral void in which the story takes place. Esther’s very name comes from the Hebrew nistar, which means “hidden.” There is much about Esther which is hidden — her ambiguous relationship with Mordechai, her Jewish heritage, her deception of the king.

Were Esther alive today, she would clearly ally herself with #MeToo. She was a classic, flagrant victim of sexual harassment and assault. What kind of a man was Mordechai, her cousin, her guardian, sending Esther to parade before the lecherous monarch, to deceive the court, to marry a non-Jew? Chabad.org posits that “not only was [Esther] an upright Jewish girl who abhorred the notion of marriage to a Gentile vile king, she was actually already married!” The Talmud explains that she was married to Mordechai, her cousin, who was also the greatest sage of that generation. Every time Esther was taken to Ahasuerus, she was literally taken and forced to be with him. Throughout her ‘marriage’ to Ahasuerus, Esther still remained loyal to her true husband, Mordechai. After leaving Ahasuerus’ presence she would immerse in a mikvah and then secretly rendezvous with Mordechai. But this convoluted explanation does nothing to mitigate the sexual abuse to which Esther was subjected.

Why do we celebrate Purim with drinking, carousing, gifts of food to the poor and masks and costumes? The wearing of masks was not always part of the Purim celebration and there is no clear explanation of the costume custom. Some say it was to preserve the dignity of the poor as they begged for food. Others say it was to conceal the identity of those who overindulged in the consumption of alcohol to fulfill the Talmudic injunction to imbibe until one can “no longer distinguish between arur Haman (‘Cursed is Haman’) and baruch Mordechai (‘Blessed is Mordecai’).” But perhaps those costumes were added to hide mortification at the ignominy Esther had to endure. Maybe the drinking is necessary to overcome shame at the humiliation and degradation an incredibly brave young woman was made to undergo at the hands of men — both friend and foe. Haman is not the only villain in the Purim story; there are many others, just as Harvey Weinstein was not the only but merely the first of what seems to be an unending list of abusers and harassers.

In Ayelet Waldman’s novel Love and Treasure, which recounts the destruction of the Hungarian Jewish community during the Holocaust, one of the characters says, “So many Hamans, only one Purim.” But he is wrong. There are, actually, many Purims.

The Jewish Encyclopedia lists thirty fast and feast days observed in Jewish communities around the world to commemorate deliverance from a danger to a community or a family. At these anniversaries, a Hebrew megillah, detailing the event in question, is read in the synagogue or the family circle. Prayers are recited; business is suspended for the day. These Purims, called purim katan, range from the Purim of Abraham Danzig through the Purims of Cairo, Lepanto, Florence, Padua, Tiberias and Tripoli to the Hitler Purim of Morocco. So the correct observation should really be, “so many Hamans, so many Purims.”

This year, as we hear name after name of highly placed personages dismissed from leadership as the result of sexual abuse and harassment, the accomplishments of Esther in saving her people seem all the more extraordinary. And the absence of God from the story is all the more understandable. Megillat Esther is a story of infamy, dishonor and disgrace, a story to be read with great discomfiture. But it is also a story about the strength and resilience of women who stand up for themselves and for others.

What does it take to deliver a community from an Amalekite? What courage did it take for Esther to go before the king and reveal not only that she was Jewish but that she had deceived him? What did she feel when Mordechai said to her: “Do not think in your heart that you will escape in the king’s palace any more than all the other Jews. For if you remain completely silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish. Yet who knows whether you have come to the kingdom for such a time as this?”

It is hard to answer this question because, of course, Mordechai and Esther are the hero and heroine of the Purim story. The ambiguity of their relationship and the nature of their deceptions must be explained away for the sake of the greater purpose that their actions served — that of saving the Jewish people. That is why Purim is a holiday of masks. Just as masks and costumes conceal one’s identity, just as the Megillah conceals God’s name, so too is the true nature of the protagonists of this story obscured. Just as “Esther” is rooted in the word for “hidden,” the word “megillah” is related to the word “galah,” which means “to reveal.” The Megillah of Esther can be translated as “Revelation of the Hidden.”

Purim 5778 thus has a special relevance today. We all wear masks, sometimes to deceive, sometimes to protect ourselves. Jews in America have historically worn masks that conceal their Judaism. Taking off disguises is stressful and seeing people without their masks can be as frightening as seeing them wearing masks. But unmasking is necessary; things hidden too long begin to rot. They must be subjected to the light of day and dealt with. It’s a painful but necessary process. We are all better off when truths are disclosed and we can heal and move forward. Sometimes we, like Esther, must look deep into our hearts, stand up and say #MeToo.