Holocaust Memorial Day

Baroness Deech Excerpts

Monday 26th January 2026 Lords Chamber

[Baroness Deech (CB)]

My Lords, for some of us, every day is Holocaust remembrance day. It is a pain we carry within our bodies, like a physical pain. It would be alleviated if only my parents had lived to see me in the House of Lords at an event like today, marking the grievous effect that the Holocaust had on them and, of course, their relatives, parents and wider family. We are grateful for national efforts to commemorate the Holocaust, but we remain troubled by the way the story of our lost families and the destruction of much of central European Jewish life is often presented.

I begin by paying tribute to the more than 1,200 victims of the atrocities of 7 October and the more than 200 people who were taken hostage—the worst massacre of Jews since the Second World War. Those killings were carried out with genocidal intent. Hamas has pledged to repeat them, if able, and its charter explicitly calls for the killing of Jews, not merely Israelis. As with the Holocaust, there are those who deny that the killings of 7 October occurred, or who falsely attribute them to Israel. That denial can be countered, among other sources, by the meticulous report on each victim authored by the noble Lord, Lord Roberts of Belgravia.

I hope the national commemorations this week will include reference to 7 October. That is important because antisemitism is a continuum. It did not begin in Germany in the 1930s and it did not end in 1945. It has existed for at least two millennia and arguably longer. The Holocaust was not a historical aberration but an eruption of a hatred that had long been embedded across societies. Today, antisemitism is again re-emerging, using the Gaza war as a pretext. Those who blame Israel for rising antisemitism ignore the historical reality that mass killings, pogroms and expulsions occurred long before Israel existed and would persist even if it did not.

So what should we truly be remembering? Condemning the Nazi regime alone is both too narrow and too superficial. Research by University College London’s Centre for Holocaust Education shows that Holocaust education, while essential, does not reliably reduce antisemitism. The UK has invested heavily in museums, memorials, archives, survivor testimony and learning centres, but these efforts have not demonstrably shifted attitudes.

One reason is that Holocaust education often treats the subject as distant history. Students learn about it as a unique past atrocity with little connection to their own world. Antisemitism is framed as a Nazi phenomenon rather than a persistent, long-standing prejudice that still operates today. This fosters the mistaken belief that the problem ended in 1945. Students frequently come away believing that Hitler alone or a small group of Nazi leaders were responsible. This obscures the widespread collaboration across Europe from officials to ordinary citizens and the deep-rooted antisemitism that existed for centuries in many countries. Many students also believe that German soldiers would have been executed had they refused to participate, reinforcing the false idea that ordinary people had no moral agency.

At the same time, young people increasingly encounter Holocaust misinformation and conspiracy theories on social media platforms, such as YouTube and TikTok, often with more impact on them than their formal schooling. Some are influenced by historically misleading fictional portrayals such as “The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas”. More historically grounded films such as those the noble Baroness, Lady Ludford, mentioned, such as “Survivor”, “The Commandant’s Shadow” and “1945”, would provide far better educational value.

Crucially, many students learn about the Holocaust without learning about antisemitism itself. They do not understand its history, its ideological roots or the social and religious narratives that sustain it. They do no learn that antisemitism is rising sharply today, especially since 7 October. Nor do they grasp how far-right extremism, far-left hostility and Islamist ideology—perhaps I should have said theology—increasingly intersect. Young people who march calling for Israel’s elimination, who persecute Jewish students or who call for violence against Zionists have often already received Holocaust education, yet they frequently refuse to distinguish between Israel and Jews. The fact that similar hostility is not directed at, for example, Chinese, Iranian or Russian students for their Governments’ actions exposes the underlying antisemitism.

The recent report on antisemitism by the noble Lord, Lord Mann, and Penny Mordaunt, to whom we should be grateful, also warns that some religious teaching in schools may perpetuate anti-Jewish beliefs. Initiatives such as the Winchester diocese’s work with Jewish communities to eliminate medieval stereotypes from religious education are welcome, and it would be encouraging to see similar programmes expanded nationwide. It is fortunate for us that the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry will make her maiden speech today. We look forward to her many contributions to come, but today’s will be especially pertinent.

Another flaw in Holocaust remembrance is that it has become overwhelmingly a narrative of Jewish death rather than Jewish life. Jews are presented primarily as victims with little attention to the vibrant culture, traditions, faith and resilience that sustained Jewish communities for thousands of years up to today. Even more problematic is the failure to link Holocaust remembrance to contemporary antisemitism. If “never again” is to have meaning, students must be taught how antisemitic tropes persist today in activism, conspiracy theories and some religious or political discourse. They must understand how the term Zionism is often used as a proxy for hostility towards Jews. As the late Lord Sacks observed, antisemitism has evolved from religious prejudice to racial ideology to hostility towards the only Jewish state and the right of Jews to self-determination. This is politically uncomfortable, but it lies at the heart of the modern problem.

Nevertheless, many Holocaust remembrance events avoid mentioning Israel or 7 October altogether. Some councils and politicians even avoid using the word “Jew” when discussing Holocaust victims. This erasure weakens historical accuracy and undermines the credibility of remembrance.

Another difficulty lies in the insistence, by successive Governments over many years, that Holocaust remembrance must always be merged with other genocides. Rwanda, Bosnia and Darfur were appalling tragedies and deserve their own memorialisation. However, collapsing them all into a single narrative prevents meaningful understanding of why Jews were targeted, how antisemitism developed and how it persists. It also risks relativising genocide and enabling distorted claims, including those weaponised today against Jews themselves, as referred to by the noble Lord, Lord Pickles.

Students are supposed to learn lessons from Holocaust education, but lessons have become overly moralised and insufficiently historical. In an effort to put the education to use, students are taught general lessons about tolerance and being bystanders but are not given the historical knowledge or intellectual tools needed to recognise and challenge antisemitism in its modern forms. As survivor Anita Lasker-Wallfisch, the cellist of Auschwitz, observed when giving evidence to the Commons Select Committee, a new learning centre here would not achieve anything that has not already been learned in the 80 years since the Holocaust. Lasker-Wallfisch labelled the plan to build it next to Parliament “a completely idiotic idea” and “dangerous”. She said:

“A Jew, unlike a Rwandan, is not safe anywhere now”.


What is needed is serious historical education and a clear understanding of antisemitism across time.

Young people, and society more broadly, should also learn about contemporary Jewish communities—their culture, contributions and place in national life. Jews should not be portrayed only as historical victims but as the active participants in civic, intellectual and cultural life that we are. This is why Holocaust education requires a fundamental overhaul. Teaching a narrow, Nazi-centric narrative of historical murder has not succeeded in changing attitudes or countering modern antisemitism. That is also why plans for yet another Holocaust memorial in Victoria Tower Gardens represent a missed opportunity. Its proposed learning centre appears to literally set in concrete many of the shortcomings already identified. It does not meaningfully address contemporary antisemitism nor the central role of Israel in Jewish identity. If it presents a primarily British perspective on the Holocaust, it risks appearing evasive.

Britain itself has a complex history in relation to its Jewish community. The massacre of 1190, the expulsion of 1290, the slow and relatively recent restoration of full civil rights, the restrictive refugee policies of the 1930s and 1940s, Britain’s failure to admit large numbers of Jewish refugees, its restrictions on immigration to Mandatory Palestine and its post-war treatment of displaced persons remain difficult chapters. Even the Kindertransport and the Winton rescues were privately, not nationally, funded, and the children admitted were separated from their parents because they were more readily assimilable and not a threat to job seekers. If only Israel had existed in 1938, courtesy of Britain, rather than in 1948, how many thousands or millions of lives might have been saved?

Against that backdrop, many in the Jewish community feel that contemporary antisemitism has been allowed to grow. Hate marches, biased policing, hostility on campuses, conspiracy theories spread by doctors, lecturers, teachers and students, vandalism and open calls for violence are increasingly common. Anti-Zionism has become a socially acceptable mask for antisemitism, even as Israel’s role in Jewish safety and continuity becomes ever clearer.

The Jewish community sees Governments tolerating extremist rhetoric, hesitating to challenge hate preachers, imposing restrictions on Israel’s self-defence, cutting themselves off from security and defence exchanges, and giving credence to Hamas-derived narratives. It is therefore unsurprising that some Jews feel sceptical about official declarations of “never again” and announcements of yet another Holocaust memorial while present-day antisemitism goes insufficiently challenged. It looks like an attempt to deflect justified criticism.

We expect more than platitudes. Will the Government call upon Christian and Muslim leaders to take responsibility for addressing religious teachings that perpetuate anti-Jewish ideas? Will they act decisively against extremist preaching? Will they commit to a serious reform of Holocaust education, one that drops vague moral messaging and treats the Holocaust as a uniquely Jewish genocide, and equips students to recognise antisemitism in all its historical and modern forms? The task of remembering has been accomplished, with the recording of testimonies, the collection of data, many memorials and 21 learning centres already existing in the UK, including the National Holocaust Centre in Newark and the Imperial War Museum galleries, but nobody has ever looked into what effect, if any, they have on those who visit, or into who does not visit. It is just assumed that they combat antisemitism. Finally, if Holocaust remembrance is to mean anything, it must affirm not only the memory of those murdered but the legitimacy, dignity and security of Jewish life today, including the central role of the State of Israel as a symbol of Jewish continuity and self-determination.