Drawing on ancient rabbinic interpretations as well as archaeological evidence, Marc Zvi Brettler suggests understanding the book of Esther (which will be read Saturday night and Sunday for the holiday of Purim) as a counterpoint to the story of Saul in the book of Samuel, beginning with the fact that its hero Mordecai (and, by extension, his cousin Esther) is, like Saul, a member of the tribe of Benjamin:

“In the fortress of Shushan lived a Jew by the name of Mordecai, son of Jair son of Shimei son of Kish, a Benjaminite.” [Thus the text introduces Mordecai]. . . . [A]s is often the case in genealogies, “son” here likely means “descendant,” and it appears that the Kish mentioned here is intended to refer to the very same Kish who is the father of the Benjaminite King Saul (1 Sam 9:1-2). . . . Targum Sheni, an expansive midrashic translation of Esther (written in the 8th or 9th century CE) makes this explicit by charting Mordecai’s lineage directly to Saul. . . .

As a result of his failure to fulfill precisely God’s command in the battle against Amalek, the kingship is taken away from Saul and given to David. . . . The story of Mordecai and his cousin Esther thus represents Saul’s successful second chance or comeback. As such, it contains many [implicit linguistic] references to the stories concerning Saul and his family found in Samuel. . . .

In Esther the evil protagonist is Haman, who five times is called “the Agagite,” [meaning] the descendant of Agag. This term, used only here in the entire Bible, refers to Agag, the Amalekite king whom King Saul spared rather than killing as he was commanded (1 Samuel 15:8-9). [Indeed, this act of disobedience led to God’s decision to reject Saul.]

In Esther, by contrast, Saul’s descendants bring about the death of the vile descendant of Agag, king of Amalek. And Mordecai, unlike Saul, does not even need a divine command; . . . he knows to do so by himself. And while Saul had nothing to fear, Mordecai had much to fear: he endangers himself and Esther by pressuring her to speak with Ahasuerus.

Early Friday morning, Israel attacked military installations near the Iranian cities of Isfahan and nearby Natanz, the latter being one of the hubs of the country’s nuclear program. Jerusalem is not taking credit for the attack, and none of the details are too certain, but it seems that the attack involved multiple drones, likely launched from within Iran, as well as one or more missiles fired from Syrian or Iraqi airspace. Strikes on Syrian radar systems shortly beforehand probably helped make the attack possible, and there were reportedly strikes on Iraq as well.

Iran itself is downplaying the attack, but the S-300 air-defense batteries in Isfahan appear to have been destroyed or damaged. This is a sophisticated Russian-made system positioned to protect the Natanz nuclear installation. In other words, Israel has demonstrated that Iran’s best technology can’t protect the country’s skies from the IDF. As Yossi Kuperwasser puts it, the attack, combined with the response to the assault on April 13,

clarified to the Iranians that whereas we [Israelis] are not as vulnerable as they thought, they are more vulnerable than they thought. They have difficulty hitting us, but we have no difficulty hitting them.

Nobody knows exactly how the operation was carried out. . . . It is good that a question mark hovers over . . . what exactly Israel did. Let’s keep them wondering. It is good for deniability and good for keeping the enemy uncertain.

The fact that we chose targets that were in the vicinity of a major nuclear facility but were linked to the Iranian missile and air forces was a good message. It communicated that we can reach other targets as well but, as we don’t want escalation, we chose targets nearby that were involved in the attack against Israel. I think it sends the message that if we want to, we can send a stronger message. Israel is not seeking escalation at the moment.