Never forget
The Holocaust was, undoubtedly, a defining event in history. It was unique in its scientific precision, unprecedented in the scale on which it was conceived and horrific in that it served no interest; as Emil Fackenheim put it, it was "evil for evil's sake". Sunday witnessed the second annual British Holocaust Memorial Day. The Jewish have their own National Holocaust Day, Yom Hashoah, but that marks their private, personal grief. Whilst they were a central target of the Final Solution, they were not the only minority group to be involved. Moreover, the denial of anyone's humanity is abhorrent, to whoever it is applied. Victims deserve universal respect, and charges demand public condemnation.
We can recall numerous other attempted genocides and racist attacks. Kosovo is but one example; at a time when the trial of Slobodan Milosevic is close to collapse, the themes of human rights and respect for humanity are more prevalent than ever. And need I say more than 'the Taleban' to conjure up the racial tensions within our contemporary society? Globalisation may help advancement in technology, access to information and resources, and speed the growth of the economy. We may recognise the differences and similarities of other cultures. We may welcome influences and challenges. But, ultimately, we still need our own security, and cling to identity.
Thus, a case can be easily constructed for a National Holocaust Memorial Day. Firstly, to remember the past: to support those who stood against prejudice and hatred, as well as out of respect for the victims themselves and their families and friends. But it serves another purpose. The oft-quoted phrase that we must remember or be "doomed to repeat" is in danger of becoming a mere platitude. True, learning the facts of history is a step towards preventing its reoccurrence. But emotional participation - going to events or discussing practical ways to stamp out intolerance, together with empathy for those who have been persecuted in the past - is the most powerful way forward. Remembrance is essential, but so is realising the real significance of that object of remembrance and doing something to stop its repetition.
Perhaps this suggests that we should have a Holocaust 'year', as one day is insufficient to carry out such a task. But the British National Holocaust Day was not intended to be the only commemoration. Rather, it is a public focus to stimulate events, education programmes, discussion and engagement with the lessons of the Holocaust in local communities.
This year the national event was held in Manchester in front of national and local political leaders, faith representatives, survivors, young people and celebrities. Perhaps bravely, the chosen theme was 'Britain and the Holocaust': acknowledging our need to take responsibility for what we (individually and collectively) did (or failed to do) during Nazi persecution, as well as what we can and should do in the future.
Oxford had its own part to play. On the steps of the Bodleian Library, a 24-hour name reading vigil was held from Saturday to Sunday night. Moving and emotional, weather was no excuse for non-attendance. Passers-by stopped to watch. Many students helped steward or read names, for five minutes or an hour. The event closed with an interfaith memorial service in Wadham Chapel, bringing together not only minority groups but individuals from all backgrounds regardless of a personal link with a particular persecuted group.
Oxford, in particular, is often accused of 'elitism'. Hopefully, though, this only applies to academic standards. Less than a year ago, David Irving was due to (controversially) speak at the Union, and, in fact, was invited recently to Nottingham University for a similar purpose. Despite sometimes feeling that we live in a bubble here, safe from the outside world, we are no different. Active remembrance of tragic defining events such as the Holocaust is demanded of us not only by morality, but also if we want a future at all. This isn't pretentious rhetoric. It is all very well to say 'never again', but we must ensure that it rings true.
Pictured above: the Railway Entrance to Auschwitz
31st Jan 2002