A time for war – and a time to embrace
We are living in historic times!
Who among us can have failed last week to recognise the stark truth of Ramban’s famous saying ma’aseh avot siman le-banim – “what happens to our ancestors is a signpost for [what will happen to] their descendants!”
Two days before our 2,381st Purim-commemoration of the hanging of the arch-genocidalist Haman, tyrant-in-chief of ancient Persia, a modern day Persian genocidal tyrant, Ali Khmenei (ke-Hamani = “a likeness of Haman”) met his demise.
There are other parallels too. The reign of Ahasuerus – who initially despised the Jews as much as his protégé Haman – was preceded by the rulership of an utterly benign Persian king, Cyrus, who honoured the Jews and ordered the construction of the Second Temple (which Ahasuerus halted). Similarly, the present Iranian (=Persian) dictatorship was preceded by a benign constitutional monarchy where the Jewish community were treated as equal citizens.
Moreover, just as in the Purim story the rank-and-file subjects of the Persian Empire were not inherently Judeophobic as witnessed by the ease with which the tiny Jewish armies dealt with their (comparatively few) enemies in 127 provinces in one day and how so many of the citizens of the empire became mityahadim (Jewish wannabees), the current war is revealing just how many of the Iranian people are openly paying homage to Israel (and the USA) for precipitating what could lead to a long-overdue regime overhaul and a real Iranian – or Persian – Spring!
It is significant that while modern-day rebrandings of other ancient powers, notably Egypt, Babylon (Iraq), Greece and Rome, bear little or no cultural resemblance to, or, in the case of Rome, have radically evolved from, their original castings, with Persia this isn’t so. The official language of today’s Iran is Farsi, a direct spawn of the Persian spoken at the time of King Cyrus. The core grammar and structure of ancient and modern Persian are identical. While many Iranians practise an extreme form of (Shi’ite) Islam, this is only since the Islamic Revolution of 1979. Iranians aren’t Arabs. Iran is still essentially Persia with a different name since 1935. Persia continues to endure, as the Talmud asserts it will until Messianic times (Avoda Zara 2b). And we could be, quite literally in the throes of a second Purim for the Jews!
Meanwhile, our gallant IDF soldiers continue to fight for Israel’s freedom from nuclear threat. It is noteworthy, and refreshing, that in this war so far the mainstream media have not obsessed – as they had so shallowly done with Gaza – over the sacred cow of “proportionality” – notwithstanding that there are those on the Left who are still pontificating, even in the face of an Iranian nuclear threat, over whether the war is “legal” or not. When the very existence of a nation or, in this case, an entire region, is threatened, one does not play by Queensbury rules; one fights single-mindedly until the threat is extinguished. Sadly, innocent lives are taken in all such wars.
We daven that the IDF together with our US allies, will achieve a swift and decisive victory at minimum human cost.
Yet at this time of war on the macrocosmic plane, there can also be, within microcosmic settings, a time to embrace. And just as there are heroes of war, there are, on other planes of existence, warriors of bridge-building.
I was singularly uplifted by the unlikely good-news story featured on the front page of a recent edition of Weekend Australian. The heroine in question is Ellie Nagel whom I am both proud and humbled to be able to call my former student. We have been close with her family since our arrival in Sydney 33 years ago. She was approached by the father of Mohammed Farhat, 21, currently serving a 20-month prison sentence for acts of anti-Semitic terror in the streets of Sydney’s eastern suburbs last year. His parents, horrified by their son’s heinous acts, caused, they said, by his radicalisation amidst toxic influencers and descent into drug addiction, asked Ellie, an educator, to visit their son in jail and enlighten him about Judaism. At first, she demurred, but after deep reflection accepted the challenge. It turned out Farhat had never previously encountered a Jew. He opened up to her, confessed he had fallen in with a bad crowd and used the word “stupid” about his behaviour many times. Confronted with the consequences of his actions having engaged with a member of the very community he had demonised in his contorted mind, he expressed sincere remorse and volunteered to write a public letter of apology to the Jewish community.
Judaism does not subscribe to the theory that a leopard cannot change its spots. It does not hold with the mantra “once a terrorist always a terrorist”. In Judaism the door is always open to teshuva. Resh Lakesh was the leader of a gang of lawless bandits before he turned his life around and became the great sage who is quoted on every few pages of the Talmud.
The concept of restorative justice which brings together victims, offenders and the community with a view to rehabilitation and behavioural change is a very Jewish one. After all, teshuva is not so much repentance as return or restoration to a state of being where the tselem Elo -him, the pure Godly image within a person is uncovered once again.
Ellie’s story resonated with me because I too am in the process of mentoring and counselling a young adult who was radicalised a decade ago, has seen the abject error of his ways and has discovered for himself the truth of Torah Judaism.
Directing lost souls of every description back to the right path one by one may not make global headlines in the present – but this is tikun olam in the real!
May good news stories like Ellie’s become the global headlines of the very near future!
