Purim Through My Eyes: Why This Jewish Story Matters to Me as a Muslim

I was not born Jewish.

I was born Muslim, in Pakistan, into a political family that understood persecution firsthand. My father spent 27 years in prison for his beliefs. He was labeled dangerous not because of violence, but because he spoke for justice, democracy, and the rights of minorities.

As a child, I learned early how power can turn against the vulnerable. I learned how governments can use fear to justify repression. I learned how easily human beings can be stripped of dignity when they are portrayed as enemies.

Years later, when I read the story of Purim, it did not feel like ancient history.

Purim tells the story of a moment when Jews living in Persia were sentenced to death by decree. Not for what they had done, but for who they were. A powerful official, Haman, convinced the empire that Jews were a threat that needed to be eliminated. The machinery of the state was turned toward their destruction.

What saved them was not an army.

Queen Esther, a Jewish woman who had concealed her identity, stepped forward and spoke the truth. She risked her life to confront power and expose injustice. She chose responsibility over safety.

Because of her courage, her people survived.

As a Muslim, this story resonates with me deeply. Because I understand that persecution is not theoretical. It is real. It happens when societies accept the idea that some lives matter less than others.

I saw the modern continuation of this story when I visited Israel for the first time.

Before I arrived, I carried questions shaped by years of narratives, headlines, and political noise. But what I saw with my own eyes was something entirely different. I saw Muslims praying freely in mosques. I saw Jews, Christians, and Muslims living side by side. I saw a society that was not perfect, but was alive, open, and human.

Most importantly, I saw a people who had survived every attempt to erase them.

Purim is not just a Jewish holiday. It is a warning to humanity.

It reminds us that genocide does not begin with violence. It begins with words. It begins with the normalization of hatred. It begins when people accept the idea that a group can be demonized, isolated, and dehumanized.

History has repeated this pattern many times. And too often, the world has responded too late.

But Purim is also a story of hope.

It is the story of a people who refused to disappear.

It is the story of identity surviving against overwhelming odds.

It is the story of courage in the face of fear.

As a Muslim working to build bridges between Muslims and Jews, I believe Purim carries a message not only for Jews, but for all of us. It reminds us of our shared responsibility to stand against hatred, regardless of who the target is.

Because injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.

Purim teaches us that silence enables persecution, but courage can stop it.

Queen Esther made that choice thousands of years ago.

Today, that same choice belongs to us.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)