Purim is a holiday of costumes, disguises, and reversals. But beneath the masks and merriment lies a powerful lesson about leadership – one that feels more urgent than ever today.
At the center of the Purim story stands Mordechai, a leader who refuses to hide. While others in the royal court navigate political intrigue with careful diplomacy, Mordechai makes a different choice: he steps into the crisis with full visibility. Instead of dressing for success, he dons sackcloth and ashes, making himself indistinguishable from his suffering people. And it is precisely this act – his refusal to distance himself – that ultimately turns the tide of history. His leadership in a moment of crisis stands in stark contrast to the festive costumes that characterize Purim.
The story of the megillah is relatively simple: in the Persian Empire, a senior royal adviser seeks to annihilate the Jewish people. In his eyes, the Jews are a scattered, divided, and even hostile group who are alienated from one another.
But just as he sets a date for their destruction, a series of unexpected events unfold, ultimately overturning the decree. King Ahasuerus reverses the edict, and the Jewish people are saved.
Tragically, we are all too familiar with this perception of Jewish division: when Hamas leaders Sinwar and Deif gave their orders on the morning of Simchat Torah, they also viewed the Jewish people as fragmented and vulnerable.
The megillah’s conclusion challenges us: it demands that we care for one another, and that we look after society’s most vulnerable. The call of “Together we will prevail” must not fall on deaf ears. Jewish history has shown, time and again, that our survival depends on our ability to unite in the face of adversity.
Beyond the theme of Jewish unity, Mordechai himself offers us a critical lesson in leadership. “Mordechai knew all that had been done; Mordechai tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and ashes; he went out into the city and cried a loud and bitter cry.” Mordechai places himself at the palace gates, fully aware that the royal guards might disapprove of his presence in such a state – or even attack him.
When Queen Esther sends messengers with new garments, he refuses to change into them. First, because he understands that his distress must move her to act, using her privileged position to help.
Second, because true leadership requires full identification with the crisis at hand. Mordechai does not retreat behind palace walls to ensure his own safety. He does not ask for special treatment because of his connection to Esther. By wearing sackcloth and ashes, he makes himself indistinguishable from the rest of the Jewish people – crying out and fearing for their lives. In response, the entire Jewish community follows his example.
MORDECHAI’S REFUSAL to use his access to the palace as well as his choice to mourn publicly rather than hide is what ultimately unites the Jews in their moment of need. It is also what compels Esther to take action. While Haman describes the Jews as divided, Esther – spurred by Mordechai’s visible anguish – commands: “Go, gather all the Jews.” This is what leadership must look like in a time of crisis; this is where the solution begins.
If we are reflecting on Purim customs through the lens of Mordechai’s leadership, it is worth considering the tradition of costumes. Since the 13th century, dressing up has been central to the holiday’s spirit – perhaps inspired by the Venetian masquerade festivals that Jews encountered in Europe.
Over time, this practice became infused with religious meaning, with scholars such as the Rema and the Sefat Emet exploring its deeper significance. Some link it to Esther’s initial concealment of her Jewish identity. Others see the absence of God’s name in the megillah as a kind of divine “masking.” Today, dressing up has become a core part of Purim, allowing Israelis of all backgrounds to engage in the holiday’s joy.
A cautionary tale
Yet, as much as costumes bring laughter and lightheartedness, they also offer a cautionary tale. There is a striking moment at the end of the megillah when Mordechai finally ascends to power, trading his sackcloth for royal garments. At this point, the text tells us that he is respected only by “most of his brethren” – not all. The moment he is no longer fully part of the people, the moment he steps inside the palace walls and away from the daily struggles of ordinary Jews, his connection to them begins to erode. Leadership, the megillah reminds us, is strongest when it remains close to the people: when it refuses to be distanced by the trappings of power.
As we celebrate Purim this year, we should embrace both the joy and the responsibility that come with it. Mordechai’s leadership teaches us that true strength lies not in masking ourselves, but in standing together – Israeli Jews and Jews around the world – bound by a shared destiny and mutual responsibility.
The writer is CEO of ANU – Museum of the Jewish People.