When Moshe came to redeem his people, he used the term “pakod pakaditi” (Hashem has remembered you – Shemos 3:16) the same term expressed by Yosef on his deathbed to his brothers (Ibid 50:25) as he predicted their future redemption. Though it took some time for Moshe to earn the Hebrews’ trust and to overmatch Pharaoh, once he gained the upper hand he was able to quickly and convincingly infuse much confidence in his people, who by then realized he was the long-promised redeemer.
And while the victorious outcome of the Hasmonean uprising was neither prophetically foretold nor rapid (it took decades for the small band of Jewish fighters to banish the Seleucids from their land), there was less apparently at stake, at least overtly, when Mattisyahu attacked a Hellenized Jew and a small Greek garrison in Modiin. Many of his coreligionists had already resigned themselves to go underground and ride out Antiochus’s madness (Mattisyahu’s own family had fled Jerusalem for the relative quiet of the Judean hamlet), while others enthusiastically supported his ambitious efforts at Hellenization.
In contrast to the Pesach and Chanukah narratives, sitting at the center of the Purim story from its outset are confusion, unease, and the real threat of annihilation.
In one of his earliest acts, Achashveirosh invited the Jews of Shushan to a royal feast. They went en masse, reasoning that their absence would invoke the ruler’s ire. At the party they were treated to all forms of pleasure and seemed to have gained the king’s favor.
However, Mordechai, the leading sage at the time, had forbidden them to go. Accordong to the midrash, kashrus was never in question, so there were no concerns about the acceptability of the food and drink. Still, Mordechai was concerned over potential lewdness at the feast. Further, it soon became clear that the king’s primary objective was to celebrate Daniel’s “seventy year” redemption prophecy not coming to fruition, and he even utilized the vessels of the Beis HaMikdash as part of the festivities (Megillah 11b). Indeed, according to Esther Rabbah (7:13), the Jews of Persia were later threatened with extermination “because they partook of the feast of Achashveirosh.”
The attendees apparently weren’t bothered by their decision to attend. If anything, their feeling of self-justification was further enhanced when Esther was selected to replace Queen Vashti. Not only had Achashveirosh accorded them the highest royal honors at the banquet, now one of their daughters would represent them in the palace! Mordechai must have been wrong after all.
But just as soon as things began to look up, their fortunes reversed sharply. After promoting Haman to chief minister, Achashveirosh gladly removed his signet ring in exchange for a sizable fortune. The two men drank to their hearts’ content while “the city of Shushan was bewildered” (Esther 3:15).
We see more evidence of uncertainty elsewhere, such as with the strong disagreement among the Jews about how to deal with Haman. The people as a whole chose to demonstrate respect by prostrating every time the egotistical minister passed by. Understandably, they were enraged that Mordechai would go out of his way to cross paths with Haman only to continue walking without bothering to bow.
Turmoil was felt on a personal level on both sides of the struggle. Achashveirosh, for one, repeatedly demonstrated confusion. First he was shocked and offended by Vashti’s refusal to appear before him. Then he allowed Haman to legislate the destruction of an entire nation under his watch. Still later, he stumbled on the story of his personal delivery from Bigsan and Seresh at the heroic hands of Mordechai. Having failed to act for some time, he finally sprang into action to express his belated gratitude. Finally, he followed his initial decree of death with a new proclamation, permitting the Jews to engage in self-defense (as if such permission were necessary).
