When reading the Book of Esther, our attention is almost always drawn to Esther. She was a Jewish woman who became queen of the Persian Empire and subsequently risked her life to save her people from the threat of annihilation. For this reason, Esther is commonly remembered as a heroine. However, behind Esther’s heroic story lies another woman who is often merely a footnote: Vashti. She was the queen before Esther, the woman who refused King Ahasuerus’s command to appear before him and display her beauty. That refusal cost her her position as queen and she vanished from the story.
Does this therefore mean that Vashti was a failure, whilst Esther was a success? Is a woman only considered a heroine when she succeeds in retaining or exercising power? Or can courage also be found in the simple act of saying ‘no’ to a power that treats human beings as objects?
When the Empire Seeps into Life
To understand the stories of Vashti and Esther, we must first consider the world of power in which they both lived. The Book of Esther is not merely a story about the lives of two women at court. The story is set within the Persian Empire, a realm where power was highly centralised in the king. Consequently, the experiences of Vashti and Esther cannot be separated from the power structures that shaped their lives.
This is where the postcolonial perspective becomes important. One of the key figures referenced in this study is Edward Said. Said demonstrates that modern imperialism has an extremely wide reach. Imperialism does not merely dominate specific territories, but permeates various layers of life to such an extent that almost no aspect of life is entirely free from its influence. In the context of interpreting sacred texts, this idea raises an important question: is there a connection between cultural and religious texts and imperialism? If so, how does this relationship operate and what are its implications for today’s reading communities?
This question is not intended to reduce the Bible to an imperialist text. Rather, a postcolonial reading invites the reader to identify possible connections between the text, power, and the surrounding social structures. Therefore, the Book of Esther can be read not only to understand what happened to Esther and Vashti, but also to see how a system of power operates through the body, social relations, identity, and the lives of groups under imperial rule.
Musa W. Dube, a leading postcolonial feminist theologian and biblical scholar who serves as a key reference in this approach, views imperialism as a massive, systematic and consistent process of constructing systems of power across various political, economic and social levels. Imperialism can be seen in relationships of domination between one nation and another, between one state and another, and even between different racial groups and geographical regions. Thus, empire is not merely a question of who formally holds power, but also concerns how such domination is established and maintained.
Dube employs three terms familiar to the history of mission studies to analyse the mechanisms of imperialism: God, Gold, and Glory. These three point to the intersection between religious legitimacy, economic interests, and the pursuit of glory or renown. Letty Russell subsequently added one important dimension, namely gender. Thus, imperialism operates not only through politics and economics, but also through the relationship between men and women. These four elements can be intertwined and operate simultaneously.
From this perspective, reading the Book of Esther means examining how empire and patriarchy can be intertwined. The Persian Empire did not merely possess a political power structure centred on the king; that structure also operated through rules governing how women were expected to behave towards men. The king’s power over the kingdom resonates with men’s power over the household. What took place in the palace was subsequently reinforced by a decree stipulating that every man must be the head of his household. Thus, women’s bodies and behaviour became one of the spheres where imperial power and masculine hegemony intersected.
Wasti and the Objectification of Women’s Bodies
The story of Vashti begins when King Ahasuerus held a grand banquet at his palace. At the same time, Vashti held a banquet for the women. The king then ordered Vashti to appear before him wearing the royal crown to display her beauty to the guests. This command illustrates how a woman’s body is treated as an object to be displayed.
What is interesting is the verb used for Vashti: she was brought to the king. Vashti does not appear as a subject who determines her own will. She is summoned, brought, and presented. Her beauty was the reason she had to be present. Thus, from the very beginning of the story, the issue facing Vashti was not merely one of a wife’s obedience to her husband. The issue was how a woman’s body is positioned within the mechanisms of power and made an object for the gaze of those in power.
Vasti’s refusal therefore had greater significance than mere personal defiance. When she refused to appear, the king’s advisers saw her action as a threat to the social order. They feared that if women learnt that Vasti could refuse the king, wives would also do the same to their husbands. Consequently, Vashti’s case was quickly framed as a matter concerning the stability of gender relations throughout the entire kingdom.
It is here that the connection between the empire and patriarchy becomes increasingly clear. The centrality of the king as the ruler of the kingdom seems to require a counterpart in the centrality of the man as head of the household. Vashti’s defiance of the king was seen as dangerous because it could seep from the palace into the household. In other words, a woman’s body and actions within the palace were considered capable of disrupting the structure of male power in the private sphere.
Wasti was eventually cast aside. She was given no opportunity to explain herself and is not mentioned again in the narrative. However, this silence need not be interpreted as an absence of voice. In a postcolonial feminist reading, Wasti’s silence can be interpreted as a subversive silence. She says “no” to the power that objectifies her and uses her beauty as a spectacle.
Ester: From Object to Active Subject
After Vashti was deposed, the search for a new queen began. Beautiful, fragrant young women were gathered from across the kingdom. Esther, a Jewish girl who had been orphaned and raised by Mordecai, was then brought into the palace. She was placed in a women’s quarters, physically prepared with various perfumes, and then brought before the king. Finally, the king took a fancy to Esther, placed a crown upon her head, and appointed her queen in place of Vashti.
If read critically, Esther’s ascension to the throne does not-necessarily mean that she had gained her freedom. Like Vashti, Esther too was subject to a structure that determined when she might appear before the king. She became the object of the king’s affection whilst remaining subject to the rules of the court. Even her Jewish identity was concealed on Mordecai’s orders. Thus, in the early stages of the story, Esther appears more as a woman who is led, shaped and positioned by the structures of power than as a woman who determines the course of her own life.
However, the situation changed when Haman plotted the extermination of the Jews throughout the kingdom. Here, Esther’s predicament was no longer merely about her as a woman in the palace. Her identity, which she had hitherto concealed, turned out to be linked to the fate of a community under threat. Esther’s presence at the centre of power took on new significance because she represented the identity and lives of people who had no direct access to the king.
When Mordecai asked Esther to appear before the king, she faced a very real risk. Anyone who came without being summoned could be put to death. Therefore, Esther’s decision was not a spontaneous act taken without careful consideration. She was aware of the risks she would have to bear. It is even highly likely that she knew Vashti had been deposed after refusing the king’s command. Although the text does not state a direct connection between the two women, a reading based on hermeneutical imagination leaves room to imagine that Vashti’s story may have been part of Esther’s awareness of the risk she was facing.
Mordecai then said that it was perhaps precisely “for such a time as this” that Esther had been made queen. This expression can be interpreted as kairos, a moment that demands the courage to make a decision. Esther finally asked all the Jews in Susa to fast for three days. She and her maids would also fast. After that, she would go before the king. Her decision was clear: “If I must die, let me die.”
It is here that Esther undergoes a significant transformation. The woman who was previously drawn into the system now takes action of her own volition. She remains within the power structure, but begins to use that space to fight for life. “Yes” for Ester is not obedience to power, but a “yes” to taking risks for the liberation of the oppressed.
Listening to Wasti and Esther in a Polyphonic Manner
At this point, Vashti and Esther need not be positioned as two women in opposition to one another. A polyphonic approach, on the contrary, allows both to be heard simultaneously. As in polyphonic music, each voice has its own distinct character, and may even sound contrasting, but when heard together, each voice enriches the composition as a whole. In the Book of Esther, one voice is silenced, whilst the other flourishes and is ultimately recorded. Nevertheless, both can still be read as part of a single testimony to the struggle against injustice.
Vashti said “no” to the power that sought to objectify her body. Esther said ‘yes’ to the risk when her own life and that of the Jewish people were at stake. Vashti resisted by refusing to be part of the mechanism of objectification. Esther resisted by entering the corridors of power and using her position to defend those under threat. Therefore, ‘no’ and ‘yes’ are not two forms of courage that must be pitted against one another. Both are actions born of an awareness of injustice.
This interpretation is important because the tendency to focus solely on Esther can lead to Vashti being forgotten. Conversely, paying attention to Vashti does not mean neglecting Esther. Both need to be heard together, for women’s voices do not always manifest in the same way. Some women resist by saying “no”; others resist by saying “yes” to a risk. Some speak out loudly; others’ voices are present precisely in the silence. Polyphony allows all these voices to be heard without silencing one another.
Independence: From Liberation to Celebration
The story of Esther then moves on to the deliverance of the Jewish people from Haman’s plot. However, this deliverance did not end with the successful thwarting of a conspiracy. In chapter 9, deliverance becomes something to be remembered and celebrated. Grief turned to joy and a day of mourning became a day of celebration. This event was subsequently commemorated as the Feast of Purim.
Purim demonstrates that freedom has dimensions of remembrance and community. The people not only remember that they were saved, but also celebrate it through feasting, exchanging food, and giving to the poor. Thus, freedom does not merely mean being free from the plot of death, but also means building a shared life following liberation. Those who have experienced salvation are called to share that joy with their fellow human beings.
Towards the end, Esther’s previously concealed identity is finally revealed openly. Her voice is also recorded as she and Mordecai establish the festival of Purim. Vashti did indeed not get the chance to speak again. However, if these two figures are interpreted in a polyphonic manner, Vashti’s voice—which is not directly recorded—can still be heard throughout the narrative. Thus, this book not only preserves the voices of women who are heard, but also invites its readers to listen to the voices of women who have been silenced.
Freedom from What, for What, and for Whom?
Ultimately, the stories of Vashti and Esther lead us to a broader question about the meaning of independence. Being independent does not merely mean being free from colonial rule or threats. Independence must also be measured by the way we treat others. Are we truly independent if we still oppress others? We need to ask: free from what, from whom, for what, and for whom?
These questions also apply to the way we view the body and beauty. In the stories of Vashti and Esther, beauty can become a means of objectification when a woman’s body is judged by the standards of others. However, beauty itself need not be viewed negatively. What must be rejected is when beauty becomes a tool for dominating and controlling women. Beauty can be understood as part of the existence and dignity bestowed by God. Therefore, everyone has the freedom to recognise and embrace their true selves without having to submit to definitions imposed by others.
In this light, Wasti and Esther meet once more. Wasti said “no” when her beauty was to be objectified. Esther said “yes” when her beauty led to a position that could pave the way for the liberation of her people. Both demonstrated that the power one possesses need not be used solely for self-preservation. Power can serve as a means to challenge injustice and bring about life.
Conclusion: Two Voices, One Call for Liberation
So, who is the heroine: Esther or Vashti? Ultimately, this question need not be answered by choosing one over the other. Vashti and Esther are two distinct voices within a single narrative of liberation. Vashti teaches us the courage to say ‘no’ to power that objectifies and oppresses. Esther teaches us the courage to say ‘yes’ to taking risks when the lives of the oppressed are at stake.
Both also remind us that women must not be reduced to objects within power structures. They are subjects capable of making decisions, challenging the status quo, persevering and fighting for their lives. Even when their voices are silenced, those voices need not be lost. Readers can hear them once more through a reading that is sensitive to power relations, gender and the experiences of those on the margins.
Ultimately, freedom is not merely a state of being free for oneself. Freedom is a call to reject injustice and to bring life to our fellow human beings. That is why the voices of Wasti and Ester remain relevant. There are times when we must say ‘no’. There are times when we must say “yes”. What matters is not merely the words we choose, but what we are saying “no” to and what we are saying “yes” to.
If “no” leads us towards injustice and “yes” leads us towards life, then our voices too can become part of the polyphony of liberation. For, a truly free person is not merely one who is free for their own sake, but one who uses their freedom to help bring freedom to those who are still oppressed.
Link: https://www.youtube.com/live/0sw_N_0ldDk?si=Fiv4bv-qOyJr9RaQ
