The Mirror Has Two Faces
Finding feminist role models in both Esther
and Vashti.
By Wendy Amsellem
This article, written
from the perspective of an Orthodox Jewish feminist, explores the ways in which
the images of Vashti and Esther can guide us today. Reprinted with permission
from the JOFA Journal (Winter 2003).
Although Vashti and
Esther never meet, the relationship between them is integral to understanding
the events of Megillat Esther. Vashti disappears by the end of the first
chapter, but she casts a long shadow over the rest of the book.
As we encounter Vashti in
chapter one, we learn the following about her: She is beautiful and headstrong.
She throws a good party. She refuses to have her appearances before the king regulated
solely by his desires. For this last offense, Vashti pays dearly, losing her
crown and incurring perpetual banishment from the king's presence. At the close
of chapter one it is clear that a woman in Ahasuerus's court would do well to
be dutiful and to come before the king as he commands. The essentiality of
female obedience is further confirmed by the final verse of the chapter in
which a missive is sent to all of Ahasuerus's subjects reminding them in no
uncertain terms that "every man must rule in his household."
By contrast, Esther is
presented at first as the perfect foil to Vashti. Whereas Vashti was willful
and independent, Esther is passive and submissive. The reflexive use of the
Hebrew word "LaKaKH" is constantly applied to her. She is "taken"
in by Mordechai as a foster daughter, "taken" to the king's harem,
and "taken" before the king. She does not reveal her identity at the palace,
"for Mordechai had commanded her not to tell." She requests nothing at
the harem, only accepting whatever Hagai, the king's eunuch, chooses to give
her. Even after she is crowned queen, we are told that Esther continues to obey
the commands of Mordechai as she had done under his care. It is no surprise
that Ahasuerus loves Esther. She is the model of docility, an exact antidote to
Vashti.
Esther understands very
well her role as Ahasuerus's queen. When Mordechai commands her to appear before
the king and intercede on behalf of the Jews, Esther responds that everyone knows that those who appear
before the king unbidden are condemned to die. She has learned from her
predecessor's fate that the queen's job is to come when she is called.
Mordechai insists to Esther that it is her responsibility to plead for her nation.
This is a moment of
crisis for Esther. She is caught between conflicting obediences to her foster
father and husband. In addition, to come before the king unsummoned is an
abnegation of her role as Vashti's replacement. She was chosen to be queen
since she represented the antithesis of Vashti's persona. Esther's position,
her identity and quite possibly her life are all closely tied to her obedience
to the king.
In this moment of fate,
Esther looks into her mirror and discovers that she does not look quite so
different from Vashti after all. She takes matters into her own hands and
stands up to both sources of authority. Esther assumes control of Mordechai's
plan, changing and amending as she sees fit. Like Vashti, she will appear
before the king only when she decides that the time is right--in this case
after three days of fasting. Instead of following Mordechai's suggestion and
simply making her petition, she will throw a series of parties as Vashti did.
In order to succeed, Esther realizes that she must take on aspects of the
repudiated former queen.
Of course, we do not
actually know why Vashti refused to appear before the King. It could have been
out of modesty as the midrash in Esther Rabbah suggests. Or as Talmud Bavli
Megillah describes, she may simply have been unhappy with her appearance that
day (a sudden case of leprosy according to Rabbi Yossi bar Chanina or the
surprise sprouting of a tail according to a beraita). Perhaps she was being
capricious. Perhaps she was a proto-feminist fighting for a sense of
independent integrity. In any event, Vashti's disobedience brings her career to
an abrupt end and her fate is quite deliberately meant to serve as an object
lesson to women everywhere.
As Esther marshals her
strength to save her nation, she must revisit the experiences of her shunned
predecessor and learn from them. Esther is more calculated, more subtle, (more
divinely inspired) and ultimately far more successful than Vashti. Yet, in
order to triumph, Esther must confront the image of Vashti and incorporate (or perhaps
discover) the attributes of Vashti in herself.
As Orthodox feminists, we
are constantly confronted with taboo images of dangerous women from whom we are
told to distance ourselves. A is too radical, B has gone too far, C has made too
many enemies. We struggle to draw our borders, to be open and yet traditional, free
and yet constrained within halacha. Purim is a holiday in which we explore and
challenge our boundaries. We dress up as other people. Some of us drink to the
point where differences become blurred. In the spirit of this holiday and following
the legacy of our ancestor Esther, I encourage us to reexamine whom we emulate
and from whom we shy away. We may discover as Esther did that we are not so
different from those whom we fear and that the most important lessons can be
learned from the unlikeliest of teachers.
Wendy Amsellem completed the Drisha Scholar's Circle and
is currently pursuing a PhD in rabbinic literature at NYU.