Who was the historical Persian king in the Purim story — and does it matter? - The Jewish Chronicle

Is it Xerxes the First, Ataxexes the First or perhaps it was really Ataxerxes the Second? This is the question that many rabbis and scholars would argue is on the lips of Jews across the world.

As Purim approaches, who was the historical Ahasuerus? It could be that you are situated in an intellectually impoverished milieu in which such questions have little traction. Worry not. There is another opportunity of squeezing the events of the Bible into unyielding historical cracks. Now I am as sympathetic as the next person at the need to escape the neurotic chaos which is Pesach-cleaning but the custom of some Jews who traipse around the British Museum in the week before Seder, wisely intoning that this is the mummy of the Pharaoh Afikoman the Great, is surely an exodus too far.

My scepticism as to the need to underpin our holy texts with fanciful historical conjecture is rooted not only my curmudgeonly disposition but it is in fact supported by the final paragraph of the Book of Esther. Having recounted the twists and turns of their story, the authors of the Megillah inform us that this can all be found in “the Chronicles of the Kings of Persia and Medea”.

Dayan Yechezel Abramsky, head of the London Beth Din from 1934-51, explained this strange verse in the following way: “After we have read the entire scroll — it may occur to someone that we have just read a history, a historical story (geschichte), and this is why the verse says: ‘And every act of theirs, and the story of the greatness of Mordechai can be found in the Chronicles of the Kings of Persia.’”

He went on to explain that if you wanted a history story, you could go to the Chronicles of the Kings of Medea and Persia and there you will find a geschichte (“history”), but, he said, “We have not read a history now, but what have we read? — The Megillah of Esther was written by authors who were divinely inspired.”

I should have been satisfied by the thought that there are truths more profound than those of the half-filled canvas of ancient history. Nonetheless I was determined to get my problem with Xerxes and Ataxerxes resolved. Apparently the current scholarly fashion is to conclude that Ahasuerus – four syllables – is one and the same as Xerxes – only two syllables, bravely ignoring the fact that the alternative also has four syllables.

There must be powerful evidence for running roughshod over the similarity in the names Ataxerxes and Ahaseurus. The evidence in part comes from the writings of Herodotus, the Greek historian who was a contemporary of Xerxes. He reports that Xerxes liked women even to the extent of being in involved in harem intrigue. Well, that is a clincher. Xerxes liked women. Ahasuerus liked women. Therefore on the compelling assumption that no other Persian king liked women, Xerxes must be Ahaseurus.

The Purim story is less than 2,500 years old and mapping our limited historical knowledge on to the biblical account has proven very challenging. In which case what can we expect in our attempts to identify the time and place of the events of the first Passover as described in the Book of Exodus?

This is an event that according to tradition took place over 3,000 years ago! Given our inability to place the Exodus narrative within the timeframe of ancient Egypt, the historically inclined theologian is utterly liberated. There is a wide choice of possible centuries into which we might drop the Passover story. Countless names of Egyptian places and objects which might sound similar to names in the Bible to encourage the searchers find their El Dorados.

Much of this desire to find history in the Bible and vice versa dates back to the early years of the state of Israel. The great Bible scholar, Professor Moshe Greenberg argued that the Near Eastern tribe of Habiru were none other than the Hebrews of the Bible.

The desire to anchor Jewish history into the supposedly factual histories of the Ancient Near East gripped a generation of scholars. As is often the nature of things, even the greatest scholars’ work can be buried and resurrected several times as academic fashion dictates. leaving us clutching on to air as the grains of academic research slip through our fingers.

The Israeli polymath, Professor Yeshayahu Leibowitz, was taken by the idea that Moses’s burial place was deliberately hidden to ensure that later generations would not be able to venerate the physical spot. Following on from the approach of the early 20th century Torah commentary of Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk, he railed against the desire to find eternal and divine spirituality in the ephemeral physicality of the world around us. He considered any such project to be idolatry.

Judaism is a religion which elevates the physical, which eschews the passing material world in favour of eternal truths. Who were the “real” Mordecai and Esther is the wrong the question.

We should be asking who are the Mordecai and Esther that can impact our lives today. They are surely not in a supposed tomb in Iran. Perhaps we can adapt a phrase much loved by Rabbi Sacks. History can tell us what happened many years ago, whereas we look to our faith to help us understand the meaning of those events, whether they took place 2,500 years ago or 1,500 years ago or, perhaps most importantly, in our own present lives.

Topics:

Purim

History