‘So it shall be written, so it has been done…’
Those of a certain age will recognize the title as a slight variation of the famous line from Cecil B. DeMille’s epic film “The Ten Commandments.” There, the villainous Pharaoh, played by Yul Brynner, would declare, “So it shall be written, so it shall be done!” Though that line appears nowhere in the Torah, Hashem apparently appreciates a well-turned phrase — because sometimes, history unfolds exactly that way.
I had intended to write a lumdish column weaving together Purim, Parshat Ki Tisa, Parshat Parah and current events. But the events of this past Shabbat changed everything. Instead, with anticipation and awe (mixed with anxiety) I write about history unfolding before our eyes.
At the time of this writing, Israel is under massive attack. Iran has unleashed waves of missiles and drones in response to coordinated American and Israeli strikes. Operation Epic Fury and Operation Lion’s Roar have targeted hundreds of military sites. The scale is staggering.
Baruch Hashem, the military results have been extraordinary. The coordination between the United States and Israel has been precise beyond expectation. Aircraft have returned safely. Strategic targets have been neutralized. The level of success defies statistical prediction.
On the civilian side, there have been painful losses. Even one Jewish life is an entire world. We do not minimize suffering. And yet — given the scale of what was launched against Israel — the level of devastation could have been far worse.
A reasonable person must ask: Is this normal?
• • •
The bravery, intelligence and skill of American and Israeli forces are remarkable. But repeated outcomes of this magnitude point to something more. We are witnessing partnership — human effort joined with Divine assistance.
This is not new.
When Bnei Yisrael first battled Amalek after leaving Egypt, Yehoshua led soldiers into combat while Moshe Rabbeinu stood atop the hill, hands raised in prayer, supported by Aharon and Chur. When Moshe’s hands fell, the people faltered. When they were raised, Israel prevailed.
Did Moshe’s arms win the war? No. The people fought. They bore arms. They risked their lives. But prayer made the difference.
Hashem does not demand passivity. He demands partnership.
Throughout our history — from King Shaul’s battle with Amalek, to David HaMelech, to Mordechai and Esther — we fought. The odds were against us. We could not sit back and say, “Hashem will handle it.” Nor could we rely solely on swords and strategy. Victory came when we engaged physically and spiritually.
The one time we could not fight — when we had no land, no army, no weapons — was during the Shoah. That tragedy remains beyond comprehension. Yet even from that abyss, within three years, the Jewish people returned to their homeland after 2,000 years. History turned again.
Now consider the timing.
• • •
Haman chose the 14th of Adar for the annihilation of the Jews. Mordechai and Esther had less than a year to overturn the decree. Haman was executed on 17 Nisan. Yet the date of destruction remained on the books. The Jews were authorized to arm and defend themselves.
The Megillah records a curious date: the 23rd of Sivan, when Mordechai sent letters throughout the empire instructing the Jews to prepare to defend themselves. Why note that date? Because it underscores the lesson: the Jews had to organize. They had to prepare. They had to fight.
And then the Megillah tells us that Shushan was filled with joy. Why joy? The danger was not yet over. The 13th of Adar — the day of battle — had not yet arrived.
Because they understood something essential: the decree had shifted. They were no longer passive victims. They had agency. They had permission to defend themselves. They were partners in their own redemption.
And now, as Purim approaches once again, the parallels are impossible to ignore. A Persian tyrant threatens the Jewish people. Letters of mobilization go out. Armies assemble. Adar arrives.
Coincidence? In Hashem’s world, Jews don’t believe in coincidence.
The Hebrew name for this current campaign, Shaagat Aryeh — “The Lion’s Roar” — echoes the verse in Amos: “A lion has roared, who will not fear? Hashem Elokim has spoken, who will not prophesy?”
The lion is the symbol of Yehuda.
• • •
In Parshat Vayeshev, we read of division among brothers — Yosef and his brothers torn apart by jealousy and distrust. Yehuda played a central role in Yosef’s sale. Yet later, Yehuda stood ready to sacrifice himself for Binyamin. That act of self-sacrifice healed the rift and united the family.
Centuries later, that unity resurfaced in Mordechai — described as a Yehudi, yet also an Ish Yemini, a descendant of Binyamin. The tribes of Yehuda and Binyamin, once divided, stood together.
Unity precedes redemption.
Perhaps that is the deepest message of this moment.
Today, we face not only external threats, but internal division. In Israel there is tension between chilonim and charedim, between those who rely primarily on military strength and those who rely primarily on spiritual merit.
But the Torah model rejects both extremes.
We must fight — and we must pray.
Those who believe weaponry alone secures our future are mistaken. Those who believe prayer alone suffices are equally mistaken. Amalek is defeated only when Yehoshua fights below and Moshe prays above.
Yehuda and Yosef needed one another. So do we.
The prophet Yechezkel foresaw a time when the divided sticks of Yehuda and Yosef would become one in Hashem’s hand. “My servant David will be king over them … and they shall all have one shepherd.”
Unity is not sentimental. It is strategic. It is spiritual. It is survival.
The Midrash Yalkut Shimoni teaches that before the final Geulah, Persia will threaten the world and nations will panic. And Hashem will say to Israel: “Banai — bishvilchem asiti et hakol. He-gia zman geulatchen. (My children, for you I have done everything. The time of your redemption has arrived).”
We do not know the timetable of redemption. We do not claim prophecy.
But we do know this: Jewish history moves in patterns. Purim was not merely ancient history. It was a template.
So it was written.
And so, once again, we are watching it unfold.
If we have learned anything from Amalek, from Purim, from our long history, it is this: when we stand united — physically and spiritually — partnering with Hashem, extraordinary outcomes follow.
Perhaps the greatest miracle would not be military success, but national unity.
Wouldn’t that be the most powerful roar of all?
Shabbat Shalom.
Write: Columnist@TheJewishStar.com
