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Lords ChamberThat this House takes note of Holocaust Memorial Day.
My Lords, it is with great respect and solemn reflection that I move the Motion standing in my name on the Order Paper. As I rise today, I do so with a heavy heart and a deep sense of responsibility.
As noble Lords will be aware, gradually, as time moves on, we lose many of the first-hand survivors of the Holocaust who were so engaged in the education of our young people and the rest of us. With the permission of the House, I would like to read the names of some of those whom we have lost during this year. Eva Schloss, MBE, who died on 3 January 2026, was a co-founder and honorary president of the Anne Frank Trust UK and stepsister of Anne Frank. Manfred Goldberg, MBE, who died aged 95 on 6 November 2025, was a Holocaust survivor and educator. Manfred’s story is part of the Holocaust Educational Trust’s virtual reality Testimony 360 education programme. Harry Olmer, who died on 15 January 2026, was a Holocaust survivor and Holocaust educator. Vera Schaufeld died in January 2026, aged 95. Vera came to the UK on the Kindertransport and shared her story up and down the country, including with our staff at the Ministry of Housing, Communities and Local Government. Eve Kugler, BEM, was a Holocaust survivor who witnessed Kristallnacht and shared her story, again including with the staff in my department. Suzanne Rappaport Ripton died in June 2025. She was the founder member of the Holocaust Survivors’ Friendship Association, now Holocaust Centre North. Ruth Posner died in September 2025. She was an extraordinary woman who survived the Radom ghetto, slave labour and life in hiding under a false identity. By the end of the war, Ruth and her aunt were the only surviving members of their family. After a dazzling career in theatre and dance, Ruth decided to begin sharing her testimony as a response to rising levels of antisemitism in the UK. I thank all of those who share their testimony and help us remember, and who will continue to make their mark on our remembrance of the Holocaust and its victims.
Tomorrow’s Holocaust Memorial Day is not only a date in the diary for me; it is a moment I return to each year with humility and resolve: a day that makes me pause and reflect on the stories I grew up hearing, and the lessons my parents impressed on me about the horrors of hatred. Tomorrow, we remember the 6 million Jewish men, women and children murdered in the Holocaust, and the Roma and Sinti, disabled people, Jehovah’s Witnesses, gay men and political opponents who were also persecuted and killed. Each one had a name, each had a story and each was loved. Behind every number was a human being whose life was cut short by hatred and a machinery of persecution that sought to erase entire communities.
We also remember those who, against all the odds, survived. Many rebuilt their lives in the UK and dedicated themselves to sharing their testimony, ensuring that future generations understood both the horrors they endured and the hope they managed to hold on to. Many of us in this room have been privileged to hear these survivors speak with honesty, courage and an often extraordinary generosity of spirit.
My own family roots are in the East End of London, once home to a vibrant and close-knit Jewish community. Even those of us whose families were not directly targeted felt the shock waves as news of the camps emerged. In homes such as my parents’ and grandparents’, the stories of what had happened were spoken about with a kind of hushed reverence: an understanding that something beyond comprehension had taken place. They taught us that, while we could never fully feel that depth of pain, we had an absolute duty to learn about it, remember it and pass the lessons on.
This year’s Holocaust Memorial Day theme, Bridging Generations, feels especially poignant as we move into a time when survivors’ voices are fading. Many have now fallen silent. Yet it is our responsibility to ensure that their legacy does not fade with them. Bridging generations is not an abstract concept: it is the quiet question from a child trying to understand why people were hated for who they were. It is the moment in a school assembly when a survivor’s words change the entire mood of the room. It is the recognition that truth, when spoken plainly, has the power to transform hearts.
The Holocaust did not begin with camps and crematoria. It began with words: with prejudice that became normalised, then embedded in policy and then allowed to flourish unchecked. It moved from insult to exclusion, from exclusion to persecution, and from persecution to genocide.
Memory is our safeguard. Forgetting is the first step towards repeating history. I feel a profound personal responsibility to ensure that these stories are never lost. That is why I am proud that, in 2024, the Prime Minister pledged that every student in the country should have the opportunity to hear recorded survivor testimony. By enabling every young person to access first-person accounts, we build resilience against distortion and denial.
The Holocaust Educational Trust’s Testimony360 programme will allow students to virtually meet survivors and explore historical sites using virtual reality. Long after survivors can no longer be with us, young people will still be able to hear their voices, ask questions and engage with history in a way that feels deeply personal and immediate.
The Holocaust Testimony portal, created by the Association of Jewish Refugees and supported by the Government, is another vital initiative. The portal brings together thousands of interviews with survivors, refugees, rescuers and liberators, providing user-friendly access to decades of testimony. Generations to come will be able to learn from those accounts. Initiatives such as Generation 2 Generation ensure that descendants of survivors continue sharing family histories, preserving the human threads that connect past and present.
When I was a council leader, I set up a Holocaust memorial event in Stevenage—it was over 15 years ago—and I have been privileged to listen to family and first-hand testimony at that event each year. A couple of years ago, I listened to Anita Peleg speak about her mother, the sculptor Naomi Blake. I remember the hush in the room as Anita played a recording of her mother’s own words. It was the kind of silence that falls when truth settles on the heart: heavy yet somehow illuminating. Naomi Blake, who survived Auschwitz and went on to create art filled with hope and renewal, embodied the extraordinary resilience of the human spirit. Hearing her voice reminded me that testimony is not merely information: it is a gift—of courage, of memory and of humanity.
Lord Lieutenant Robert Voss, whose parents escaped Nazi Germany, came to our meeting and gave an account of his paternal grandparents, who were murdered in the gas chambers of Sobibor in June 1942. That moment touched me deeply, and strengthened my resolve to ensure that these stories are never allowed to fade.
Other projects, such as Ordinary Objects, Extraordinary Journeys, a collaboration between the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust, the National Holocaust Centre and Museum, and the Jewish Museum of Greece, show how even everyday belongings can bear witness. A pair of glasses, a letter, a suitcase: these objects speak when words fall short. They provide a tangible link to lives interrupted and remind us of the profound human cost of antisemitism and hatred.
Restoring names to victims is another sacred responsibility. Yad Vashem’s project to identify the 6 million murdered Jews is a monumental effort grounded in the belief that every person deserves to be remembered. A name is the most personal thing we have: chosen with love and often carried through generations. For the Nazis, names became tools of persecution. For us, restoring them is an act of dignity, remembrance and defiance of those who sought to erase an entire people.
Yet today, all too sadly, Holocaust denial and distortion persist. We still see antisemitic slogans and graffiti on our streets and the trivialisation of the Holocaust in public discourse, online spaces and even protests. Antisemitism is not new to Britain; we know that it stretches back to medieval times and, tragically, that it has never disappeared. The Community Security Trust recorded more than 1,500 antisemitic incidents in just the first half of 2025. This rise demands a clear and courageous response. I pay tribute to the CST for all the work it does in supporting our Jewish community.
Education remains our strongest defence. Young people are bombarded daily with information, some unreliable and some deliberately misleading. We must ensure they have the tools to distinguish truth from manipulation and history from distortion. Teaching about the Holocaust is not simply about understanding the past; it is about shaping a future where hatred cannot take root so easily. That is why I believe that having the national Holocaust memorial and learning centre at the heart of our capital, beside Parliament, matters so deeply. It will stand as a daily reminder to decision-makers, visitors and future generations that this country takes its responsibility to remember seriously. There are differing views, and it is right that Parliament has debated them so fully, but I feel the duty my parents and grandparents felt to ensure that the lessons of the Holocaust are carried forward with honesty and integrity.
We cannot change the history behind us but we can shape the history ahead, and so I make this commitment: I will listen, I will learn, I will speak, and I will help those who come after us to do the same. I look forward to the debate ahead of us this afternoon.
My Lords, I draw attention to the fact that I am the co-chairman of the UK Holocaust Memorial Foundation. It is a great pleasure to follow the Minister. I thought reminding us of the survivors we have lost this year was a wonderful way to start a speech. Many of them were friends and people we knew, people we shared a joke or a meal with, and people we worked together with for Holocaust remembrance. I mourn them all, but I particularly mourn Manfred, who did such outstanding work. May all of their memories be a blessing.
Whatever the circumstances, we have a whole day’s debate here. I hope the Government will think long and hard next year and ensure that, if not in the precise circumstances under which this debate has occurred, we get a whole day’s debate. I agreed with the Minister’s sentiments and with her speech—as someone once said, I even agreed with the punctuation.
Holocaust Memorial Day challenges us to confront one of the darkest chapters in human history, but remembrance requires more than ritual. It is not enough simply to speak solemnly in Parliament, to stand in silence, or to light a candle once a year. Ceremony without action becomes ceremony without meaning. True remembrance demands leadership—moral, civic and institutional—that is willing to resist hatred in all its modern forms.
In 2025, Britain received a series of wake-up calls that showed how fragile our complacency had become: a violent attack on Jews in Manchester; the conviction of terrorists who planned the mass murder of Jewish people; the shocking murders at Bondi Beach; a pop star calling for the killing of Jews, broadcast on the nation’s media; and the disturbing failure of West Midlands Police, which chose ideology over evidence in describing an antisemitic attack. Each incident triggered brief outrage, followed by national amnesia—shock, condemnation, and then forgetting, and then the cycle begins again. But the danger has not passed. Britain, like much of the world, is sleepwalking into disaster.
We hear the word “genocide” thrown around casually, stripped of its precise and grave legal meaning. This trivialisation obscures the real genocidal ideologies—including those openly embraced by Hamas, whose intent is clear from both its words and its actions. Jew hatred has returned: violently in Israel, genteelly on British streets, and through silence in response to atrocities against Jews elsewhere.
The events of 7 October marked a turning point. The massacre that day was driven by a murderous ideology with deep historical roots. It reveals itself in acts of brutality that defy language: murder, mutilation, rape, and the kidnapping of children and the elderly. Yet almost immediately, the world saw denial, distortion, and the inversion of victims and perpetrators. Those are ancient patterns. Together with modern disinformation, they threaten not only Jewish communities but the principles of liberal democracy.
That is why we must confront the reality of antisemitism today: measurable, documented and rising. The data speaks with clarity. More than 1,500 antisemitic incidents were recorded in the first half of 2025, as the Minister said—the second-highest total ever for that period. There are more than 200 incidents every month. We saw sharp spikes following high-profile provocations, including the chants at Glastonbury, proving how cultural platforms can amplify extremism. University campuses show a slight reduction from the recorded highs of 2024, but a drop from crisis levels is still not normal. A campus where Jewish students hide their identity, avoid events, or face intimidation is not a safe campus, and it does not respect academic freedoms. Antisemitism is not a metropolitan phenomenon. The numbers in Manchester have been described as sickening, but incidents occur in cities, towns and rural communities across the country. This is a national problem.
Institutional responses remain inconsistent: policing varies dramatically from place to place; public bodies hesitate; cultural institutions falter under political pressures; and inconsistency creates space in which extremism grows. We can legislate against crime but we cannot legislate away hatred. The long-term defence is education, yet this is where new challenges have emerged. The number of schools marking Holocaust Memorial Day has fallen sharply, from 2,000 in 2023 to 1,200 in 2024, and only 850 in 2025. Teachers express uncertainty about discussing modern conflicts. Some refuse to mark Holocaust Memorial Day unless it is reframed. This is not just a moment to reflect; it is a warning, and there is a duty to deal with it. We are at a crossroads and we must address this. We need to ensure that leadership is there. We cannot educate children about the Holocaust unless those children are prepared to be in classrooms. We must recognise that this will affect all of us.
I conclude by dealing with a question that we have grappled with before. We have been worried about the nature of the Holocaust, whether it will be diluted by subsequent holocausts and whether we are going to do “Holocaust-lite”. The debate that we had the other day made it clear that this is not our intention. However, we must not forget the Roma genocide.
It was Danny Danon who reminded me most forcefully that the characteristics of the Holocaust applied also—almost exclusively—to the Roma genocide. People were selected not on the basis of who they were, what they did or where they lived but on the basis of the Nazis’ views on race. He reminded me that Adolf Eichmann, at his trial in Israel in the 1960s, faced charges against him for the Roma genocide. I sincerely hope that the Roma can commemorate their genocide at the new national memorial when it is built. I am pleased to announce that the USC Shoah Foundation in the United States is in negotiations to ensure that we host one of the main servers of that institution’s enormous records of Holocaust testimony. This will ensure that the United Kingdom can bring with it many of its methods of remembrance of the Holocaust.
There are many photographs that bring the Holocaust to mind, but for me two main photographs always bring it back to me. The first I suspect will be familiar to Members around the House: the young boy at the Warsaw uprising who has been arrested, with his hands in the air, surrendering to large German soldiers. I am pleased to say that there is good evidence that the young man survived. The second is of a frightened young girl in a scarf peering out of a cattle truck. She is Roma, she is on the way to Auschwitz and she will not survive. Those two young people show what we lost. They show the possibilities that we did not have. We must confront. We must do more than light candles. We must ensure that our children, our grandchildren and those who survive in a multicultural Britain remember the Holocaust and remember what happens when government goes bad. We will ensure that their memory will always be kept.
My Lords, I thank the Minister and the noble Lord, Lord Pickles, for their impressive speeches. I very much agree with the noble Lord, Lord Pickles, that we must do more than light candles. I too look forward to the maiden speech of the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry.
I want to talk about the need, based on the experience of the Holocaust, for not only constant vigilance against antisemitism but the perception and courage to swim against a tide and stand up to the mob. That vigilance and resolve must, of course, extend to all prejudice and hate based on race, religion, ethnicity or any other characteristic. But there is something unique and specific about the 2,000-year history of demonisation of Jews and the depths of antisemitism which led to the Shoah, which must not be overlooked or forgotten.
How can we forget, in fact, when we are holding this debate not only two and a half years after the massacres of 7 October 2023 but shortly after the terrorist atrocities at Heaton Park synagogue in Manchester and in Sydney, the dishonourable conduct of West Midlands Police towards Israeli football fans, and numerous antisemitic incidents?
I attended the event this morning to mark this year’s International Holocaust Memorial Day, hosted by the FCDO and the embassy of Israel, and I will come back to some of the words spoken at that event. I fell to wondering how many of those attending marches and demos supposedly in favour of Palestinians in Gaza and who chanted “From the river to the sea, Palestinians will be free”, which implies the destruction of the State of Israel, and “Globalise the intifada”, which implies worldwide violence against Jews, actually felt uneasy about one or both of those chants but suppressed their doubts to be in the in-crowd.
I have watched three films about the Holocaust within the last 10 days. I belatedly caught “Nuremberg” at the cinema; “Schindler’s List” and “The Zone of Interest” have both been on the television, and I watched them again. In my speech on this day two years ago, I quoted Dov Forman, great-grandson of the late, great Holocaust survivor, Lily Ebert, and I do so again. He said that
“this dark chapter in history wasn’t only about mass murder. It was the destruction of a rich Jewish culture and civilisation that had thrived for thousands of years. To remember the Holocaust is to acknowledge both the Jewish lives and the Jewish life that was lost”.
I noticed to my surprise that “Schindler’s List” was not only broadcast pretty late, finishing at nearly 2 am as it had to wait for the live snooker to finish, but classified 15, along with “Nuremberg”, by the British Board of Film Classification. The justification for a minimum age of 15 for “Nuremberg” included that it contained
“images of real dead bodies”,
while for “Schindler’s List” it was that
“based on a true story, younger viewers may find the film’s depictions of persecution and the Holocaust emotionally upsetting”.
Well, yes, that is the point of Holocaust education: to teach people what happened in terms of dead bodies and physical and emotional horror. If they are not, in consequence, upset, distressed, outraged, and despairing at what inhuman persecution, murder and destruction people are capable of perpetrating against their fellow human beings, the basis for action to stop indifference is not laid. I think at least all secondary school-age children should watch these films at school, as well as at home, as the basis for a discussion about the horror of the Holocaust and other genocides.
I was six years old when I watched a serial on the TV called “The Silver Sword” from 1958 about child refugees from the Nazis. This is the synopsis I found online:
“On a cold, dark night in Warsaw in 1942, the Balicki children watch in horror as Nazi stormtroopers arrest their mother. Now they are alone. With the war raging around them, food and shelter are hard to come by. They live in constant fear. Finally, they get word that their father is alive. He has made it to Switzerland. Edek and Ruth are determined to find him, though they know how dangerous the long trip from Warsaw will be. But they also know that if they don’t make it, they may never see their parents again”.
I do not remember much of the plot, with only snatches remaining imprinted on my memory; and, unlike so many histories of the period, this fictional story had a happy ending. Notwithstanding that, what has persisted with me is the sense of fear and desperation, or, in the words of one online comment:
“Just an image—an image of devastation and loss—and a knowledge that this was something powerful and important”.
This is, of course, nothing compared to the ghastly memories of those who endured the Holocaust or the real and terrible losses of those whose families perished in it, but it is important that those deep feelings of fear, devastation and desperation continue to strike a chord with people of all kinds, both within and beyond the Jewish community, if the pledge of “never again” is to have any meaning. Hence the essential need for Holocaust education. I am grieved and disappointed to hear that fewer schools are delivering that.
I have always believed that Nazism, fascism and their like, with the combination of obedience to authoritarian rule and callousness towards human suffering, are viruses that can be caught anywhere, in any country. Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney last week quoted in his speech to the World Economic Forum in Davos from Václav Havel’s 1978 essay, The Power of the Powerless, which was about how the communist system sustained itself. He said:
“And his answer began with a greengrocer. Every morning, this shopkeeper places a sign in his window: ‘Workers of the world, unite!’ He doesn’t believe it. No one does. But he places the sign anyway to avoid trouble, to signal compliance, to get along. And because every shopkeeper on every street does the same, the system persists. Not through violence alone, but through the participation of ordinary people in rituals they privately know to be false. Havel called this ‘living within a lie’. The system’s power comes not from its truth but from everyone’s willingness to perform as if it were true”.
Rudolf Hoess, the commandant of Auschwitz, apparently saw himself as
“a cog in the wheel of the great extermination machine created by the Third Reich”.
American military psychologist Gustave Gilbert wrote of his discussions with Hoess during the Nuremberg trials, at which Hoess testified, that:
“In all of the discussions, Höss is quite matter-of-fact and apathetic, shows some belated interest in the enormity of his crime, but gives the impression that it never would have occurred to him if somebody hadn’t asked him”.
In a remark this morning at the Holocaust Memorial Day event at the Foreign Office, Meg Davis, a Holocaust Educational Trust young ambassador, struck a similar note, when she talked of how “compliance is the enabler”.
To my mind, Holocaust education needs to encompass not only the terrible history of antisemitism and where it led but the importance of an instinct and resolve against compliance and conformity. People who refuse to go with the flow, who have the guts to say, “This is not right”, and who are difficult and even objectionable to some minds are essential grit in our pledge of “never again”.
The warning signs tend to come long before the atrocities. The grandfather of the present noble Lord, Lord Russell of Liverpool, was the second Lord Russell of Liverpool. He was a deputy Judge Advocate-General to the British Army of the Rhine and one of the chief legal advisers during the war crimes trials in Nuremberg, and he wrote a book, The Scourge of the Swastika, on his experiences.
With the kind agreement of the current noble Lord, I would like to quote some passages from that book. First, the author noted that, a few months before the outbreak of war, a
“menacing German Foreign Office circular must have clearly pointed out the course of future events to all but those who did not wish to see it”.
That circular read:
“‘It is certainly no coincidence that the fateful year of 1938 has brought nearer the solution of the Jewish question simultaneously with the realization of the idea of Greater Germany … The advance made by Jewish influence and the destructive Jewish spirit in politics, economy and culture; paralysed the power and the will of the German people to rise again. The healing of this sickness among the people was therefore certainly one of the most important requirements for exerting the force which, in the year 1938, resulted in the joining together of Greater Germany in defiance of the world’”.
We were warned. The second Lord Russell of Liverpool thus observed quite rightly that:
“Persecution of the Jews in the countries which the Nazis invaded and occupied”
between 1939 and 1945
“was indeed on a stupendous scale, but it cannot have taken by surprise anyone who had followed the rise of the Nazis to power in 1933 or their Party program. Point Four of that programne declared: ‘Only a member of the race can be a citizen. A member of the race can only be one who is of German blood, without consideration of creed. Consequently, no Jew can be a member of the race’”.
That was six years before the outbreak of the war.
These reflections strike a deep chord in me after the period since 7 October intensified the fears about how an attitude explained as anti-Zionism and opposition to Israel—the blood libel of our times—transforms so easily into raw antisemitism and the dehumanisation of Jews. An interview in today’s Telegraph with Professor Sir Simon Schama notes that his TV programme about the Holocaust, “The Road to Auschwitz”, was rigorous in its examination of how the Nazis found willing accomplices in mass murder while others looked away. The journalist notes how Marian Turski, one of the last survivors of Auschwitz, said:
“Auschwitz did not fall from the sky. Evil comes step by step”.
Professor Sir Simon Schama says:
“There has been a qualitative shift towards the sense that the Jews are kind of enemies among us. I think there’s been a shift from the fury about what Israel’s said to have done in Gaza, to essentially dehumanising Jews generally”.
Holocaust survivor Mala Tribich told us this morning of her experience at Ravensbrück:
“We were stripped of our identifiers and totally dehumanised”.
Let us react this time before we know precisely how bad it can get.
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.
The Lord Bishop of Coventry (Maiden Speech)
My Lords, it is my privilege to make my maiden speech in this debate on the eve of Holocaust Memorial Day. First, I express my gratitude for the kindness that I have received from your Lordships on entering this House, and especially for the support, patience and care of the staff across the departments since my appointment to Coventry.
Being of Jewish heritage myself, I cannot recall a time when I was not aware of the Holocaust. I am grateful that this was a part of our family history that was never kept from me but held as a marker of an inhumane world, from which I was charged to do all I could to make the world a better place. Since then, I have served in Yorkshire, Uganda, Surrey, Sussex, Durham and now Coventry. I have a deep love of singing, especially the high notes, and running, unimpressively, and a nice glass of Sauvignon. Coming to Christian faith through youth ministry, I think I am now qualified to say, at the risk of current cliché, that I am and have pretty much always been a faithful.
I will focus my contribution on the importance of educating our children and young people in their religious understanding of the world, as I was, having been among the first cohort of children to journey through the GCSE curriculum, with an outstanding religious studies teacher whose support remarkably continues to this day. He ensured our introduction as teenagers to Judaism, Christianity and Islam without prejudice or favour. From this firm foundation I was privileged to have the opportunity to study Judaism as part of my first degree, with a special interest in the literature generated by the Holocaust.
I am now honoured to serve the diocese of Coventry, covering Warwickshire and part of the West Midlands, with Coventry city at its heart—a city that has always welcomed the refugee and the stranger, and which has benefited greatly from the rich culture, skills and contributions they have brought. Coventry knows that we cannot take for granted the understanding which builds relationships between communities, the tolerance which enriches communities through diversity, and the peace which overcomes. We know that we have to act in order to make a difference. Coventry is a city of peace and reconciliation, with a strong multicultural community and interfaith network, supporting each other’s festivals, celebrations and challenges. This has a long history, including the welcome of 50 Kindertransport children on the eve of the Holocaust. In the decades before and after, Coventry has continued to welcome those who have faced genocide and destruction from countries around the world.
The Jewish community of Coventry was founded by immigrant watchmaking families, who produced the best watches in the world and contributed so much to the life and well-being of the city. They had faced hardship, persecution, oppression and pogroms, only then to face antisemitism in their adopted land while serving the city. The German-born Jewish mayor, Siegfried Bettmann, faced not only antisemitism but extreme xenophobic, nationalist, anti-German sentiment, forcing him to retire from office and public life as World War I approached, despite his devotion to his adopted country.
In this debate, we recognise that the families of every member of the Jewish community are impacted for generations by the horrors and carry the burden of antisemitism today, as the noble Baroness, Lady Deech, has rightly reminded us. As a bishop, while recognising the deep sensitivities of the present moment, I was proud to discover that there are Anglican clergy who are taking some responsibility for addressing this impact in their communities, rather than remaining silent.
Tomorrow, in the town of Bedworth, Nuneaton, renowned for its pride in holding the longest-held Armistice Day event, unbroken since 1921 and attracting up to 10,000 people, in which schoolchildren line the streets, All Saints Bedworth is holding a special event to mark Holocaust Memorial Day for the first time. Though many schools across the nation have chosen not to mark Holocaust Memorial Day in recent years, as the noble Lord reminded us, recognising the deep sensitivities around the terrible and humane suffering of the people of Palestine in Gaza, Reverend Dave Poultney has taken the decision to offer a space in his community to remember the Holocaust, to educate the children of the three schools in his parish, and to lament, as the Psalms encourage us, but to remember, so that they are invited to build a world in which this will not and cannot ever happen again. This is especially important, as the Minister reminded us, at a time when survivors of the Holocaust who can testify as eyewitnesses reach the end of their lives, and in a culture where truth is contested and must be defended.
I pay tribute to those among the Jewish community here in the UK and other parts of the world who have faced dreadful persecution and attacks that can never be justified. It is a source of sorrow to my soul that the antisemitism that caused such fear in our family continues, such that communities are having to be on constant alert, afraid for their children and for themselves. This cannot be right.
As this House will know, Coventry Cathedral has a worldwide ministry of peace and reconciliation, founded the very day after the destruction of the old cathedral in World War II. These relationships continue and are deeply precious to us. Just last month, we stood side by side with the President of the Federal Republic of Germany, who laid a wreath for peace in the ruins of Coventry’s old cathedral. Representatives of all walks of life, including the Armed Forces, and of all ages, shared together in gathering to mark our mutual challenges in peacebuilding and social cohesion to inspire a new generation to work together for peace in each of our countries.
Every day at noon, the cathedral prays the Coventry litany. This is used across the world by the Cross of Nails community that flows out of the cathedral and stands to heal the wounds of history, live well with difference and celebrate diversity, and work for communities of justice and peace. The litany begins:
“All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God”.
It goes on to pray for:
“The hatred which divides nation from nation, race from race, class from class”,
inviting the response,
“Father, forgive”.
Interestingly, it does not say, “Father, forgive them”, for in 1940, the then provost Dick Howard recognised that the hatred that had caused the destruction of his cathedral church lay not simply out there among the perceived enemy, but within us all.
It is of great concern that, despite all the deeply significant efforts towards peacemaking and reconciliation, our times are more divided, not less, in these days. We know that the study of human behaviour which led to the evil of the Holocaust begins by using words—words that separate us through the language of othering, words intent on harming rather than healing. Words are our currency in this House, as they are in the wider world. Our words matter, and we can use words towards hostility or towards peace.
May this House and His Majesty’s Government stand for justice and kindness for all, so that every community of this nation may meet in understanding and respect, united by love of goodness, keeping far from violence and strife. May our children and the generations that follow be educated to live in peace, and may this nation find its honour and greatness in the work of peacebuilding and reconciliation today and for all our days to come.
Lord Shinkwin (Con)
My Lords, it is a pleasure and a privilege to follow the right reverend Prelate, and I congratulate her on her excellent and poignant maiden speech. As we have heard, she joins us with a wealth of pastoral experience, both in her current role, since 2025, as the 10th Bishop of Coventry, and in a variety of positions before that, ranging from Burgess Hill to Bradford, and Guildford to Uganda.
As a severely disabled Member of the House, I particularly welcome the right reverend Prelate’s interest in and commitment to supporting disabled people, including by running the London marathon for Mencap in 2022. I cannot think of a better preparation for life in your Lordships’ House, where I am afraid she will find that the glacial speed with which any Government move makes having plenty of stamina a prerequisite for getting anything done. She may find that she has an advantage because, as she will know, the Spirit can move far more quickly than us mere humans.
That reminds me, as someone who joined the Movement for the Ordination of Women when I was at university in the early 1990s, of a beautiful verse from chapter 9 of the Book of Wisdom, with which the right reverend Prelate may well be familiar. It is addressed to God, and it reads:
“With you is wisdom, who knows your works, and was present when you made the world, and who understands what is pleasing in your sight and what is right according to your commandments. Send her forth from the holy heavens and from the throne of your glory send her that she may be with me and toil … for she knows and understands all things, and she will guide me wisely in my actions”.
Quite apart from exposing the absurdity of viewing God purely as male, I cannot think of a more powerful affirmation of the multidimensional nature of God, embodying spiritually all that is beautiful in his creation of humanity, including she as much as he. I cannot promise the right reverend Prelate that your Lordships’ House will always do as she advises, but we look forward to benefiting from her wisdom.
There is something else that strikes me as absurd, and which I find completely counterintuitive: our implicit construction, as a society, of a hierarchy of racism. Hitler could not have been clearer: his fanatical hatred of the Jews informed the 1935 Nuremberg laws, which classified Jews as
“enemies of the race-based state”.
That racist hatred, in turn, informed the genocidal logic of the Shoah, or Holocaust. In other words, everything revolved around race. Yet, here we are, 81 years on from the Soviet Army’s liberation of Auschwitz, still mouthing with sincerity the mantra of “Never again”, but not calling out the attack of 7 October 2023, the banning of the Maccabi Tel Aviv fans, the attack on Heaton Park synagogue, the Bondi Beach shooting or the prevention of Damien Egan, in the other place, from addressing pupils of a school in his own constituency. We are not calling out these events for what they are: racist.
If Hitler knew what it was about—and as my noble friend Lord Pickles reminded us, it was about race—why do we not? After all, within 20 years of the liberation of Auschwitz, your Lordships’ House had passed the Race Relations Act 1965, which, as noble Lords will know, made the promotion of hatred on the grounds of race, colour, and ethnic or national origins an offence. The toxic abuse and now murderous violence being visited on our Jewish communities, such as in Manchester, clearly violates the Act. Unless we are saying that the Act applies only to skin colour—which would be factually incorrect—this is racism, pure and simple, so why does society seem to pretend that it is not?
What sort of message are we sending to our beloved Holocaust survivors when, instead of the theory of “Never again”, they see only the beginnings of “Yet again”? What about impressionable young people who get most of their news, as we heard earlier, from social media? The theme of this year’s Holocaust Memorial Day is bridging generations. What sort of bridge are we building when we fail to call out racism and our police imply, as happened on camera, “Well, it depends on the context”. Really? So it is okay to be racist if it is not about skin colour, or it involves abusing Jewish people or Israel.
I fear we are in danger of legitimising racist prejudice by default. As the Minister said in her powerful opening remarks, the Holocaust had its roots in prejudice that began with words. Deborah Lipstadt tells us:
“Anyone who thinks this only impacts Jews is ignoring reality. This is an attack on Western liberalism, democracy, and international security and stability”.
We can be sure that, even as we speak in this debate, there are those who are determined that the answer to the question posed by the Daily Telegraph, “Should Jews feel safe in Britain?”, should be a resounding “No”. These racists must not be allowed to achieve their goal, for the cost of surrendering to such a racist creed is far greater than the millions spent on policing the demonstrations that have paralysed our capital city weekend after weekend.
In conclusion, my childhood Jewish refugee surgeon, Hanuš Weisl, fled for his life as a teenager from racism: a racism that would kill all the relatives who came to see him depart on the last train out of Prague before the Nazis closed the border. Surely, we owe it to him today to take stronger action to ensure that racism, in all its forms, is confronted with the full force of the law, so that “Never again” never becomes “Yet again”.
Baroness Ramsey of Wall Heath (Lab)
My Lords, it is an honour to follow the noble Lord, Lord Shinkwin, and to have heard the brilliant speech from the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry—I am pleased to welcome another sort-of West Midlander—and so many powerful speeches from all noble Lords. I look forward to listening to the rest of the debate and, if I may be allowed to say, particularly to my fellow West Midlander, the noble Lord, Lord Austin, whose father was my inspirational head teacher at secondary school.
My father, Jim Ramsey, was a soldier during the Second World War, in a flail tank in the Westminster Dragoons and he was part of the liberation of Bergen-Belsen in April 1945. Sadly, he died in 1990 but, while I was growing up, he told me what he had seen there. He was deeply shocked and appalled, and told us, his children, about it during the 1970s and 1980s because he wanted us to know, and for us to then tell others what he had told us, making a reality of Bridging Generations, the theme of this year’s Holocaust Memorial Day.
Survivors of the camps are now dwindling to tiny numbers and their stories must live on through their families and fantastic organisations such as the Holocaust Educational Trust and the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust, to which I pay tribute. I share my father’s conviction of the importance of bearing witness by continuing to repeat accounts by the men and women who saw what had happened in the camps. This extract was kindly given to me by the Westminster Dragoons Regimental Association; it is taken from a report on the concentration camp at Belsen, Germany, by a fellow member of my father’s regiment:
“Belsen is a small village 11 miles from Celle, which is in the province of Hanover. About a mile south of Belsen there is a concentration camp … The conditions at Belsen camp were ghastly. Obviously it was used as a place where the prisoners could be exterminated slowly and with least trouble to the Reich. This extermination took place in the form of slow starvation; the rations were a bowl of swede or turnip soup per person every day and a loaf of rye bread between 12 persons every week. Thus the bare minimum was given; a minimum which would not allow anyone to die quickly of starvation, but which would make him or her gradually waste away into a living skeleton. When this happened death either followed by typhus or mere collapse. It was reckoned that at least 400 persons died every day.
When the camp was first entered by British troops, they were met by a sight which we in England would think impossible of a ‘civilised’ nation such as Germany. All over the grounds of the camp lay the bodies of what had once … been men and women. It was impossible to miss seeing bodies. Two over there—nine in front of the barbed wire, a large pile of 40 outside one of the huts—it was hard to walk without stepping on them as they lay on the ground. They were there because to begin with the prisoners were too weak to move their comrades away to bury them, and secondly because the SS guards were either too lazy to move them or because there were too many to move, and as they were buried more died. In one part of the camp there was a large pit. It was 80 feet deep, and in the bottom there was a mass of corpses, half buried with earth. It was said that the pit had been 20 feet deeper, but that the last consignment of bodies had filled up that 20 feet. At this moment Hungarian guards are digging another pit for those prisoners whom our doctors know will die shortly from typhus.
Today is the 25th of April 1945. The British have been at the camp for almost a week. They buried 1,200 people yesterday and 1,700 the day before, and there will be more to bury tomorrow. But things will gradually become better as the food we are giving them builds them up.
It is quite probable that many of the people in England who read accounts of this concentration camp, despite the fact that there are photographs to prove it, will think that the whole thing is vastly exaggerated and that it is just a move in the effort to foster the feeling of hate against the Germans—a feeling which admittedly the average Englishman does not like to show. He believes in sport and fair play … and anyhow, how in the world could another country do such terrible things when we don’t do them? Also we haven’t seen with our own eyes so we don’t believe, and it’s better forgotten anyhow”.
I have read only extracts from the report; I apologise to Members for how upsetting it is, but, bearing in mind the words of the noble Baroness, Lady Ludford, it seems appropriate to read them today. The final line written by that solider is:
“Do you think it’s better forgotten?”
I do not know who he was addressing that to, but I think he agreed with my father.
That anxiety that the testimony of returning soldiers would either not be believed or not be passed on to future generations was shared by my father, as well as the utter horror of what he had witnessed. How dismaying it was therefore to learn, from the Equality and Human Rights Commission’s October 2020 report, that the Labour Party had been dealing so inadequately with antisemitism under its previous leadership, and that complaints of individual members sharing Holocaust denial on social media had not even been investigated.
When Keir Starmer became leader, he was determined to root out antisemitism in the party. As part of this vital endeavour, I was asked to lead the work needed to address the recommendations made in the commission’s damning report. It was terrible that such work was necessary, but what a fitting opportunity it was for me to honour my father. The EHRC had identified political interference in the handling of antisemitism complaints, so I had the task of developing an independent complaints system from scratch. I also established a proper process to engage with Jewish community stakeholders, and I oversaw the devising and delivery of a programme of antisemitism awareness training for use across the party for all staff and parliamentarians.
I worked closely with the Jewish Labour Movement, which was led so effectively at that time by my now noble friends Lord Katz and Lady Anderson of Stoke-on-Trent, as well as Dame Louise Ellman, Rebecca Filer, Peter Mason and Adam Langleben. I worked with Danny Stone of the Antisemitism Policy Trust and Adrian Cohen of the Jewish Leadership Council, as well as Marie van der Zyl, the then president of the Board of Deputies of British Jews, and her successor, Phil Rosenberg. I also came to hugely respect Dave Rich and all those at the Community Security Trust; obviously, that work is ongoing, for reasons that other noble Lords have mentioned today.
Under Keir’s leadership, and with the support and challenge of all those wonderful people, the Labour Party succeeded in turning things round. The EHRC lifted its legal enforcement action against the party, and no longer did the Chief Rabbi find himself needing to intervene publicly in the general election, as he had done in 2019. But, of course, antisemitism is still very much with us today, as we all saw last October with the horrific attack on worshippers at the Heaton Park synagogue in Manchester on Yom Kippur. Therefore, Holocaust Memorial Day retains its vital role in ensuring that we all remember and—more than this—that we all do whatever we can to tackle antisemitism wherever we see it.
Lord Massey of Hampstead (Con)
My Lords, it is a pleasure to follow the noble Baroness, Lady Ramsey of Wall Heath. I thank her for all the work that she has done to combat antisemitism. I also thank the Minister, the noble Baroness, Lady Taylor of Stevenage, for arranging this debate and for commemorating so kindly those who witnessed the events we speak of who passed away this year. I congratulate the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry on her excellent maiden speech and thank her for her recognition of the multigenerational trauma experienced by those of us of Jewish heritage. That is a very significant thing, in my view.
Memorialising the Holocaust has never been more important. We know that this grotesque event was based on an ancient hatred, and yet the events since 7 October have produced a level of antisemitism in this country that few of us could really have imagined. Jews in the UK, as has been mentioned by the noble Baroness, Lady Ludford, and my noble friend Lord Shinkwin, can no longer attend school or synagogue without security protection. Israeli football fans have been banned from watching their team play. Members of the other House have been stopped from attending schools in their constituencies, and there have been deadly antisemitic terrorist attacks on our streets. The open statements about killing Jews and the demonisation and vilification of Israel have been normalised to a rather terrifying extent.
I will focus my brief remarks on the term “genocide”, which was the basis of the Holocaust and is now a term, as my noble friend Lord Pickles mentioned, that has been deliberately weaponised in some quarters to inflame a new version of hatred against Jews and Israel. For Jews to be falsely accused of this crime has been one of the most painful aspects of this war of words.
Let us look at the origins of the term “genocide”. It was invented by the Polish lawyer Raphael Lemkin during World War II and entered public discourse for the first time when it was included in the indictments against the Nazi defendants at Nuremberg.
What is genocide? Lemkin’s definition was that it was the extermination of racial and religious groups in order to destroy particular races and classes of people. The genocide convention of 1948 defines the term more broadly, but the key is the intent to destroy a racial or religious group. As we know, the Nazis devised their final solution in 1942 in a state-sponsored, institutionalised programme to exterminate the entire Jewish population of occupied Europe, which totalled 9 million people at that time. They managed to kill 6 million of them.
Let us contrast this with the alleged genocide in Gaza, which was a war of self-defence—Israel’s sovereign right—following the atrocity of 7 October and the kidnapping of 251 hostages, the worst pogrom since World War II, as mentioned by the noble Baroness, Lady Deech. Whether you agree or disagree with Israel’s conduct of the war, there was never an intent to exterminate or eliminate any group or race. Israel’s war is against a terrorist group pledged to destroy it. It has nothing to do with the idea of genocide. Furthermore, Hamas bears responsibility for casualties in Gaza by refusing to release hostages and embedding itself and its weaponry within the civilian infrastructure. It is therefore vital that the Holocaust is remembered for its unique evil. The public need to be reminded of what constitutes a genocide. Understanding the term might prevent its misuse for political ends.
We are in dangerous waters now in terms of Holocaust denial and distortion, as opponents of Israel seek to undermine the unprecedented character of this event with false equivalence. This must begin in schools. As we lose living witnesses to this darkest history, we cannot afford a growing vacuum of knowledge in schools about the Holocaust, or, worse still, for it to be replaced with an ideology that questions it. So I urge the Minister to devote even more resource to ensure that the public understand the Holocaust, what constitutes a genocide, and how fragile societies can become in the face of antisemitism and racism. By doing so, we can make sure that it never happens again.
My Lords, it is a great pleasure to follow that brilliant speech by the noble Lord, Lord Massey. It was a privilege to listen to the fantastic maiden speech by the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry.
In March 1939, a 10 year-old Jewish boy in a town called Ostrava, in what was then Czechoslovakia, was woken up in the middle of the night; he got out of bed, looked out of the window and saw German troops marching into the town square. It was the day that Hitler had invaded. A few days later he was put on a train by his mum and teenage sisters. It was the last time he would see them, because they were eventually rounded up, sent first to a ghetto and then to Theresienstadt, before being murdered in Treblinka in October 1942.
That boy came to the UK—he was able to speak only three words of English, which were “hot”, “cross” and “bun”—but he grew up to become the youngest grammar school head teacher in the country and educated tens of thousands of people, including my friend, the noble Baroness, Lady Ramsey of Wall Heath. But, much more importantly from my point of view, he brought up four kids, of whom I am the second. In later life, he worked with black and Asian communities in Dudley to establish the racial equality council, raised funds for the Holocaust Educational Trust and spoke at its events. I pay tribute to it and its work.
We have heard in this debate references to statistics about Holocaust education. These are worrying figures, it is true, but HET, which engages with schools all year round, reports that across its programmes, it is working with hundreds more schools than in 2023, before the barbaric attacks on Israel by Hamas, and that this will increase still further with its new Testimony360 programme.
Last week I went to listen, as did a number of Members of your Lordships’ House present here, to the brilliant historian Simon Sebag Montefiore deliver an absolutely riveting lecture at HET’s annual parliamentary event. He said that teaching about the Holocaust and antisemitism is “more vital than ever” as:
“The last witnesses are passing away, while Holocaust denial, distortion, inversion, and what I would call perversion—now joined by eliminationist antisemitism—have made an alarming comeback”.
Those are the points I want to focus on today, but first I pay tribute, as others have done, to the survivors who have died this year; in particular, Manfred Goldberg, Eve Kugler—with whom I travelled to Poland for March of the Living in 2018, along with the noble Lords, Lord Pickles and Lord Shinkwin, and got to know well subsequently—and Harry Olmer, who died last week.
Many Members of your Lordships’ House will have known Manfred Goldberg; I thought he was a great man and a real hero. He survived the death camps, came to the UK after the war, got married, brought up three sons and made a huge contribution to our country in so many ways. He was absolutely appalled by the increase in antisemitism we have seen since Israel was attacked on 7 October.
I pay tribute too to the Community Security Trust and the brilliant work it does, led by Sir Gerald Ronson and Mark Gardner. We saw how important its work is on Yom Kippur last year, when two Jewish men, Adrian Daulby and Melvin Cravitz, were killed when an Islamist extremist terrorist attacked Heaton Park synagogue in Manchester. This was not a random attack on a shopping centre or in the street; Jewish people were attacked, at a synagogue, because they were Jews. It was murderous, brutal racism.
Then we saw a court case in which Islamist extremists were convicted of planning to murder Jewish people at schools, businesses, synagogues and even a march against racism, in what the police said would have been,
“the deadliest terror attack in UK history”.
These attacks do not happen in isolation. A recent YouGov survey suggests that more than one in five British people now hold entrenched antisemitic views—twice the level of four years ago. The CST’s research shows that antisemitic incidents are running at record levels, and Home Office statistics show that Jewish people are 10 times more likely to be the victims of religious hate crime than any other group.
On 7 October, at the same time as terrorists were murdering and kidnapping civilians and committing the greatest massacre of Jewish people since the Holocaust, people here in the UK celebrated on the streets. Weekly marches then made central London and other city centres no-go areas for Jewish people. I went to watch some of these marches. I did not see any banners calling for peace, for hostages to be released or for a two-state solution but—and this is the distortion Simon Sebag Montefiore was talking about—plenty comparing Israel to Nazi Germany, its leaders to Hitler and Gaza to the Holocaust. They say the victims have become the oppressors and that Jews are doing what the Nazis did. Even before the conflict, Gaza was called a “new Warsaw Ghetto”.
What could more offensive than routinely accusing a country built by Holocaust survivors—the only democracy and equal free society in the whole of the Middle East—of genocide, crimes against humanity or committing another Holocaust? These disgusting comparisons are designed to demonise and delegitimise Israel and undermine the very reason for its existence as a safe haven for the Jewish people.
Protesters demand that Palestine stretch
“from the river to the sea”,
which would mean the destruction of Israel and the murder of its citizens. They chant for Israel’s destruction, for “death to the IDF”—even on the stage at Glastonbury and broadcast by the BBC—or to “globalise the intifada”.
Last month, unbelievably, extremists in Birmingham paraded behind a banner saying “One Solution, Intifada Revolution” with the Hamas symbol—the symbol of a proscribed, banned terrorist group—yet the police did nothing about it. The intifadas were terror attacks with suicide bombings, ramming people with cars and attacking them with knives—exactly what happened in Manchester.
It is good that the Met and Greater Manchester Police have finally said that they will start prosecuting people who make these statements, but this has been happening since 7 October. We need assurances that other forces will be required to do the same and that people who do this will be prosecuted with the same speed and determination as those who incite other forms of racism, as we saw, for example, after the Southport attack.
Over the last few years, we have seen Jewish kids attacked on the way to school, students targeted at university, Jewish patients hiding their identity when going to hospital, synagogues smeared with faeces and homes daubed with swastikas, and businesses attacked just because their owners are Jewish. As the Chief Rabbi said, this is a tidal wave of “Jew hatred”.
In Bristol, a Jewish MP was banned from visiting a school in his constituency. It turned out, extraordinarily, that the inclusion and diversity co-ordinator at the trust running the school had praised Hamas’s 7 October massacre as “heroes fighting for justice”. In Birmingham, Jewish people were banned by the police from going to a football match. Here in London, a mob gathers each week to scream abuse at the staff and customers of a restaurant owned by Jewish people. Of course, people have the right to protest in a democracy but not the right to harass Jewish people outside restaurants or synagogues. These people should be arrested and prosecuted. These incidents should be dealt with much more seriously in future.
What is the context in which all this is taking place? Parliament debates Israel more than any other issue—not just more than any international issue but more than any other issue. During the conflict, Parliament debated Israel and Gaza three times more than the NHS, crime, poverty or immigration. How can it be that MPs spend more time on a conflict thousands of miles away—which, if we are honest, though I am not pretending to be an expert on this, many of them know probably not very much about and can do even less to solve it—than the schools or the hospitals in their constituencies that they are responsible for? In Sudan, famine has killed 500,000 children, 10 million people are starving, and tens of thousands of civilians were murdered in just a few days. The UK is the UN Security Council penholder, yet we hardly ever discuss it.
Two weeks ago, on the very first day back after the new year, there was a Statement which was supposed to be on the Middle East and north Africa, but many MPs queued up to speak only about Israel and Gaza. MPs falsely accuse Israel of the worst crimes possible, but the Government concluded that Israel is not committing a genocide—so I would like to hear Ministers start to push back when Back-Bench MPs or others claim that it is.
We see the same obsession, bias and inaccuracies at the BBC, too. For example, when the Government concluded that Israel was not committing a genocide, the BBC pretty much buried the news. When the UN said it might be, it dominated every bulletin for days. The IHRA definition of antisemitism, the official definition that the Government subscribe to, says that demonising Israel, singling it out for criticism, holding it to standards never applied to other countries—which is clearly what is happening—are examples of antisemitism. All this matters because the obsessive demonisation of the world’s only Jewish state obviously drives hostility towards people who are identified with it, which is the vast majority of Jewish people. This is a large part of what drives antisemitism in the UK.
People cannot really promise to oppose antisemitism but then support boycotts, sanctions or embargoes that would prevent Israel from defending its Jewish citizens. People say that there is no place for antisemitism, but this has become meaningless when it is running at record levels, when Parliament and the BBC are fuelling it and when the authorities are not doing nearly enough to deal with it.
We need to be much more robust in standing up for our values. Migration is now a permanent feature of global life: in just four years, 3.5 million people came to live in Britain. Some will have come from places where antisemitism is more common than in the UK—places where the Holocaust is rarely taught, not understood or by many, probably not even believed. So, it is crucial that Holocaust education is increased, expanded and improved.
We have to be clear and say that, if people hate Jews or think Israel should not be allowed to exist, they should be prevented from coming to Britain or staying here to live. The Government and the police must clamp down much harder on extremist preachers making hate speeches in mosques. NHS staff or university lecturers responsible for racism should be sacked. Hate marches cannot be allowed any longer to take over our streets every week; the Government should change the law to curb them, if necessary.
No more empty promises or meaningless platitudes—taking antisemitism much more seriously and dealing with it much more robustly is not just a matter of standing up for the Jewish community, vital though that is; it is fundamentally about what it means to be British. Living in the UK means believing in democracy, equality, freedom, fairness and tolerance. That is what our country stands for. That is exactly what heroes like the late father of the noble Baroness, Lady Ramsey, and his comrades were fighting for in the war. Those values define what it means to be British.
Of course, Holocaust Memorial Day is an opportunity to learn about history’s greatest crimes and pay our respects to its victims, like my dad’s mum and sisters. But expressing our sympathy for people murdered 80 years ago is not enough. Holocaust Memorial Day is the opportunity to dedicate ourselves, especially those of us in positions of leadership and responsibility, not to stand silently by or to mouth empty promises or meaningless platitudes, but to do all we can to fight hatred and prejudice and stand up for the victims of racism today.
My Lords, it is a somewhat daunting privilege to follow another passionate and erudite speech from the noble Lord, Lord Austin. I too congratulate the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry on an outstanding maiden speech—the huge impact that she will make in this House is clear. I thank the Minister for leading this debate so candidly and emotionally. I declare my interest as a member of the UK Holocaust Memorial Foundation. I did not get a chance last week in ping-pong on the Holocaust Memorial Bill to pay tribute to my noble friend Lord Pickles for the huge amount of work that he is putting into the Holocaust memorial. He and his co-chair, Ed Balls, are extraordinary to watch at work together. We are incredibly grateful for the work that my noble friend does.
It is an honour to speak in this debate after such emotional, personal, erudite speeches. I always feel a fraud when I talk about the Holocaust because I am not Jewish. I did not come to Holocaust education and commemoration because of family and community links; my journey to this debate was far more prosaic. In 2015, the then Prime Minister, my noble friend Lord Cameron, asked me to serve on the UK Holocaust Memorial Foundation to bring my digital experience to the project’s objective not only of being a physical memorial and learning centre but of bringing the content and the experience to everyone in the country.
On the premise that when your Prime Minister asks you to serve you should say yes, I did, without really understanding what I was committing to, and so my personal Holocaust education journey began. I did not learn about the Holocaust at school. I went to a Catholic convent where the religious education consisted of rote learning the Bible. There was no Holocaust Memorial Day when I was growing up. I began to learn the true horror of the murder of over 6 million Jewish men, women and children only through my involvement with the Holocaust Memorial Foundation.
I too had the privilege of my life in meeting Manfred Goldberg and watching and experiencing his testimony on Testimony 360. If noble Lords have not had a chance to experience it yet, I recommend it, because he is there in front of you as if he was in front of you physically. We are so lucky that Manfred and the other survivors were so brave to give their testimony.
My journey has involved visiting various museums and learning centres around the world, but it has also involved deep personal introspection. First, I needed to learn the facts; as the noble Baroness, Lady Deech, has pointed out, it is hugely important that we understand the overall historical context. We need to feel empathy for the heartbreak that this most atrocious of human acts has brought. However, as many have said this afternoon, I know that I cannot possibly fully comprehend what that multigenerational trauma must feel like. I know enough to know that I simply do not know.
My learning journey has taken me to looking inwards and asking myself some very uncomfortable questions that others have alluded to this afternoon. Would I have turned a blind eye to antisemitism as it set in again in Germany in the 1920s and 1930s? Would I have put up the equivalent of the greengrocer’s notice, as Václav Havel sets out? Would I have opted for a quiet life or, worse still, would I have joined in?
Sadly, that learning journey continues, because today, as we bridge the generations, as Holocaust Memorial Day tomorrow asks us to think about, we cannot ask those questions in the hypothetical; I am afraid that we have to ask them in the present tense. Holocaust Memorial Day and Holocaust education in the round forced me to ask myself, “Am I turning a blind eye?”—as the noble Lord, Lord Austin, has just challenged us. Am I standing up for my Jewish friends as they question whether the UK is safe for them to live in today? Am I going with the populist flow, or am I fighting antisemitism as only a small minority of people did in the run-up to the Second World War in Germany?
Holocaust Memorial Day calls on all of us never to forget, but as many have said today, that is only the beginning of the journey of learning. To truly bridge the generations, to learn from and not repeat the Holocaust, we have to learn to act, not just learn.
I fear, as many have said, that we are living in a time when people are scared. The world order is shifting. Mark Carney encapsulated it completely brilliantly last week. He set out eloquently how the rules-based world order that I have been lucky enough to grow up in is shattering. People across the world are scared; they are angry; they are looking for easy solutions. History teaches us that that is very fertile ground for antisemitism.
My involvement in the Holocaust Memorial Foundation has taught me, as others have said, that you win and lose this battle day in and day out. It requires all of us, in whatever role we play, in public and in private, to recognise how easy it is for populist rhetoric to turn into antisemitic actions. To prevent history repeating itself yet again, we all need to stand up and be counted today, on Holocaust Memorial Day tomorrow and, I am afraid, every day.
I am very honoured to follow that excellent speech; and I take the chance to acknowledge the very brilliant maiden speech that we heard earlier as well.
I am intending to speak quite briefly on this subject, because it has been very fully covered already, and I am sure nobody will mind that. First, I should declare an interest. I am a member of the APPG on British Jews, although I am not Jewish. I believe that it is really important for all British citizens to show their support for each other in the face of antisemitism.
This needs to be offered with humility and a sense of how little—certainly for me—we know. I have not experienced the emotions that my Jewish friends have experienced or the loss that they have experienced. I have read about the Holocaust. I understand it to that extent, but I do not have the deep empathy that so many noble Lords in this Room have.
What I do have is a feeling of absolute fury when I think about children not being able to go to their schools, or going in while concealing their identity; or schools having to look like fortified camps because of fear that something may happen to the children or that they may be attacked; or indeed, Jewish friends I know who are beginning to have discussions about whether this is much of a country to live in any more and whether it is a safe country for Jewish people to live in. I was absolutely horrified to hear some of those discussions, but this is where it seems to be going.
Our country—my country—is surely much better than this. Our Jewish people and fellow citizens, who have contributed so much to this country and who continue to do so, are entitled to expect much better of the whole country and to expect our vigorous and committed support.
Religious hate crime, I am afraid, is growing significantly. We might try to believe otherwise, but it is not true. It is directed not just at Jewish people—a significant number of hate crimes are directed at the Muslim community as well, and it is important to remember that—but when you come down to the intensity of number of hate crimes per 10,000 people, the Jewish population suffers three or four times more than the Muslim community. So, although others do suffer from hate crimes, it is the Jewish community that is the most heavily struck.
When HM Government take a clear stance against hate crime and antisemitism, we have to acknowledge that, but, equally, we have to say when it is not working very well.
Antisemitism is advancing, and our Jewish fellow citizens feel that they are subject to pervasive threat and that their life, in many cases, is being made miserable as a result of these threats and antisemitism. Notwithstanding what HM Government are already doing, I believe they could and should go much further and start by setting hard, measurable targets to reduce and stamp out hate crime by specific target dates, and be willing to be held to account against them. What is measured generally gets done; that is my experience in life.
Even in this very serious matter, I think we need to be tough with ourselves—not sanctimonious, but tough—about what can be done. The best tribute we can offer, in my mind, to the horrors of the Holocaust is to act vigorously now, to fight against antisemitism and to keep on fighting until we win.
My Lords, I was born a Jew and I am proud to be a Jew, albeit a non-practising one. This has been an amazing debate, and I want to pay tribute the right reverend Prelate—I did not think I would be paying tribute to a a Jewish one—for an amazing speech. There have been some amazing speeches during this debate.
I want to give some experience of my life. We were Dutch Jews on one side of our family. My father changed the name because he wanted to sell more insurance, and he was good at that, so I suppose it was a good move.
Where we lived in the East End, I never experienced any antisemitism. It was a mixed street, mainly Jews. The synagogue was round the corner, and the rabbi was round the other side. I think we had a good upbringing.
When I was 15 years old, I was a precocious reader and I came across a book—
My Lords, the noble Lord’s name is not on the list to speak, but if he would like to keep his remarks short, that would be okay.
I am sorry. I will endeavour to keep my remarks short. I did not realise that I had to put my name down.
Anyway, when I was 15 years old, I came across a book, The Scourge of the Swastika, which, ironically, was written by the grandfather of the noble Lord, Lord Russell of Liverpool. That taught me a lot about what goes on.
Bearing the mind the strictures that I have to keep my remarks limited, I will do. I think this is a really important debate. I thank the people who have made contributions about needing to do more to ensure that antisemitism remains something that we fight against. I will leave it at that.
My Lords, it is a pleasure to follow the noble Lord. I wish to welcome the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry. I did take the opportunity to visit Coventry cathedral—both the old, original one and the new one—and I believe she will make a fantastic contribution to your Lordships’ House. Also, I say to the noble Baroness, Lady Taylor of Stevenage, as many noble Lords already have, that that was an excellent introduction to this debate.
The noble Baroness, Lady Ludford, mentioned a couple of films, “Schindler’s List” and “Nuremberg”, and made a very valid point about their certification. “Nuremberg” is worth going to see, not least to see Britain’s Attorney-General, Sir Hartley Shawcross, skewering Goering at the dispatch box. I can recommend one film for your Lordships to see that really gives an indication of what actually happened in the Holocaust. It is called “The Grey Zone”, from 2001, and it tells the story of the 12th Sonderkommando uprising in Auschwitz in October 1944. It is certificated 18 because it is a little bit more graphic.
There is a large Jewish community in Manchester. As noble Lords can probably tell from my accent, my family comes from Manchester. I come from a council estate just south of Manchester. I remember that, growing up in the 1970s, we had a lot of veterans from the Second World War and the First World War. My mother remembered the Manchester blitz and hiding away in the garden in very dark Anderson shelters. She remembered the sound of German Daimler-Benz engines as they went over to bomb Manchester and the docks.
My mother also told me about the propaganda the Germans used to send out: “Germany calling, Germany calling, Lord Haw-Haw”. The Germans knew where the Jewish community in Manchester was. For those of your Lordships who do not know Manchester, just in the suburbs, in south Manchester, in a place called Didsbury, there is a large Jewish community and a synagogue—you could call it the south Manchester synagogue, as opposed to Heaton Park in north Manchester. William Joyce—Lord Haw-Haw—used to say exactly where the Jewish community was, because there was a tram terminus. He said, “We’ve got you marked out. We know where you are”.
As a coincidence, my mother worked for a company called Granada Television. This is where I pay tribute to the noble Baroness, Lady Ramsey of Wall Heath, and the story of her father, the Second World War and the liberation of Belsen. Sidney Bernstein was a Member of your Lordships’ House. He set up Granada Studios in Manchester, but his wartime service was documenting exactly what happened in Belsen. He became a fellow of the British Film Institute. I remember my mother telling me what a good man he was. I never met him, but I have read up on him.
The films Lord Bernstein produced were made specifically so that future generations could say that this happened and could not be denied. Noble Lords can look this up on YouTube, but I remember seeing a member of the Cheshire Regiment, a sergeant. He was being filmed and was asked, “Where are you, who are you and what is happening?” In the background, there was a mass pit. SS prisoners were putting the bodies into a pit, as he described, in an accent not dissimilar from mine, that he was Sergeant Smith from Cheshire, and that he was in Belsen concentration camp. What he witnessed there was unbelievable. Those were his words.
Last year, I had the privilege of meeting Mervyn Kersh, a Jewish soldier who fought in the British Army. Although he was not there on the exact day of the liberation of Belsen, he came in about a week later. He witnessed the clear-up. He saw how the medical services saved as many lives as possible. It was wonderful to meet Mervyn. In the same room was a Holocaust survivor who was liberated by the British Army in Belsen. She subsequently married a British soldier. She thought that the British Army was the best army in the world, and who can argue with that?
I remember speaking to Mervyn last year. His family had escaped from Germany into Holland and then to the safety of Britain. He had volunteered for the British Army and ended up going to liberate Europe. He said to me that his father knew, in the 1930s, what was coming with the Holocaust. He said to Mervyn, as a very young man, “If they land on the south coast of England, we need to head to Wales, we need to head to Anglesey, and we’ll get ourselves to America”. Standing there, in the third decade of the 21st century, and hearing that memory of a very young man reminds us of where we are; I am afraid to say, “Here we are again”.
I turn to the future. Noble Lords have mentioned the fantastic work that the Holocaust Educational Trust has done, with Karen Pollock and her colleagues reaching over 100,000 people each year, ensuring that the lessons of the Holocaust are never forgotten. Each year, tens of thousands of young people hear the powerful testimony of Holocaust survivors and their descendants. Survivors travel across the country to talk to many schools. Through the Lessons from Auschwitz project, tens of thousands of young people have stood on the site where around 1 million Jewish men, women and children were murdered. They return as Holocaust Educational Trust ambassadors, committed to sharing what they have witnessed.
More than a thousand teachers are trained each year in how best to teach this challenging and sensitive subject. Testimony360 is a digital project that is transforming how the Holocaust is taught and understood. Using AI-powered search technology, thousands of students have already come face to face with survivors, engaging in natural language conversations as if they were in the room together. Paired with virtual reality headsets, students can also explore key sites connected to each survivor’s testimony, all without leaving the classroom.
Remembrance is no longer enough, though. Action must be taken to counter antisemitism here today. This year, we mark Holocaust Memorial Day with increasingly heavy hearts, just months after the deadly attack at Heaton Park synagogue and weeks after the barbaric attack on Bondi Beach. Since 7 October 2023, antisemitic hatred has intensified, rhetoric has spilled into violence, and what was once whispered is now said openly and proudly. We have seen it in protests outside a Jewish-owned restaurant, a Jewish Member of Parliament being barred from visiting a local school, and visitors to a London synagogue being forced to walk through a gauntlet of hate. It is no longer enough to remember the past or to say that antisemitism is not acceptable. Action must be taken to tackle antisemitism and to foster social cohesion.
Holocaust education faces significant challenges, but the Holocaust Educational Trust is reaching more young people now than ever before. Today, young people arrive in classrooms with views shaped by social media trends rather than by evidence. Some teachers are anxious about how their communities will respond when a Holocaust survivor shares their testimony, fearing a backlash from parents. Survivors themselves are being asked to navigate questions about contemporary conflict just because they are Jewish.
In response, the Holocaust Educational Trust is expanding its work in classrooms across the country and is now working with hundreds more schools than in 2023, before the barbaric terrorist attack on Israel by Hamas. Its reach will continue to grow and new programmes are being rolled out. The Holocaust Educational Trust knows that the Holocaust cannot and must not be taught in isolation. The antisemitism that culminated in the Holocaust was not invented by the Nazis; it was rooted in 2,000 years of anti-Jewish hatred. Likewise, we know that antisemitism did not end in 1945; it has continued to evolve and to adapt right up to the present day. It is up to us all to make a stand against antisemitism.
My Lords, I congratulate the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry on her moving and illuminating maiden speech.
I rise with a profound sense of solemnity and responsibility. Holocaust Memorial Day is not merely a day of remembrance but a day of moral reckoning—one that calls on us all year after year to confront the darkest capacities of humanity and reaffirm our shared commitment to ensuring that such horrors are never repeated.
The Holocaust was a heinous crime—an atrocity of the worst kind in human history. Six million Jewish men, women and children were systematically murdered, alongside millions of others, including Roma, disabled people, political dissidents, and members of the LGBT community. This was not an accident of war but a deliberate and industrialised attempt to eradicate an entire people. We must continue to remind the world that such inhumanity to humanity must never be allowed to happen again.
We also remember that many of those responsible were ultimately brought to justice. That matters. Accountability matters. It reaffirms our fundamental principle that no state, no Government and no individual are beyond moral or legal judgment.
However, Holocaust Memorial Day also invites us to reflect broadly on the lessons of history. It asks us not only to remember one atrocity but to recognise and remember others committed across different times, different continents and different cultures, so that memory itself may serve as a safeguard against repetition. In that spirit, we must acknowledge other grave injustices that occurred that scar our collective past.
One such example is the Amritsar massacre of 13 April 1919, when hundreds of unarmed men, women and children were brutally killed at Jallianwala Bagh. They had gathered there peacefully, yet they were met with indiscriminate and lethal force. This was a profound moral failure and a tragedy that continues to resonate, particularly for British Indians and the wider Commonwealth. There have been other atrocities across the world as well, such as Rwanda, Srebrenica, Cambodia, My Lai and many more. Each reminds us that the promise of “never again” must be renewed continually, not spoken once and then just forgotten.
Remembrance without reflection is hollow. Reflection without responsibility is incomplete. Acknowledging historical wrongs does not diminish a nation. Rather, it strengthens its moral standing and demonstrates the courage to confront uncomfortable truths. In reflecting on the lessons of the Holocaust, we are also invited to look with honesty and humility at our history.
Amritsar remains a source of deep sadness, particularly for those whose families were directly affected. In that context, I respectfully ask my noble friend the Minister whether His Majesty’s Government have any plan to offer a formal apology for the Amritsar massacre, in recognition of the hundreds of innocent men, women and children who were mowed down on that tragic day. Such an apology would not undo the past, but it would carry a profound symbolic weight and reaffirm our enduring commitment to justice, humanity and historical truth.
My Lords, I am grateful for the opportunity to say a few words in the gap and to pay tribute to the many excellent speeches that we have heard in this debate, including, particularly, the admirable maiden speech of the right reverend Prelate.
As I have mentioned before, my grandmother was killed in Auschwitz, and I was partly brought up by an aunt who not only survived Auschwitz but, as she told me, survived being put into the gas chamber when that evil and macabre operation was aborted because on that occasion the system malfunctioned, so this subject is very real for me.
Last week, in the debate on the Holocaust memorial, my friend the noble Baroness, Lady Deech, for whom I have great respect, said that the Nazis intended to kill 6 million men, women and children. As I told her afterwards, I almost intervened during her speech because she was wrong. The Nazis intended, as my noble friend Lord Massey said, to kill many, many more. One of the most chilling documents of the Holocaust, which I am sure many of your Lordships have seen, is the map that was in front of the participants of the infamous conference at Wannsee in 1942 that planned the details of the final solution. That map showed every country in Europe and the number of Jews that those at the conference estimated that country contained. It showed not only the countries that the Nazis then occupied or planned to occupy, but the neutral countries in Europe and this country.
Those of us who are familiar with the events of the first three weeks of Churchill’s premiership know that an argument raged as to whether terms should be sought from Hitler. An argument raged in the War Cabinet itself for 10 days, and there is no doubt at all that, had it not been for Winston Churchill, such terms would have been sought, and much the same deal would have been done as the deal that Marshal Pétain and the French did at that time. If that had happened, even if by some miracle your Lordships’ House had survived or had been revived in the intervening years, I would be very unlikely to have been here to contribute to this debate today. Therefore, I am at the forefront of those who insist that the Holocaust must be remembered, even if the antisemitism that brought it about was just a matter of history, but, of course, we know that it is not.
A few months ago, I attended the funeral of Adrian Daulby, one of the victims of the Heaton Park attack. It was, as your Lordships would expect, a very moving event. It was an event of a kind that I never expected to attend and that I hope never to attend again, but unless the efforts of our Government and our society are increased and stepped up, I fear that I may.
Not long after 7 October, I was invited to give a talk at a synagogue in central London, and then I was told by the organisers that they had been advised that it would not be safe for that event to take place. Rather meekly, I accepted that advice, and the event was postponed, although it did take place at a later date. Looking back on it, I think I was wrong. I should have insisted that that event went ahead on the original date. It is the duty of government to ensure that its citizens can go about their lawful business in safety. The police have the responsibility of discharging that duty, and, alas, they have not always distinguished themselves in discharging it in recent months. More needs to be done, and I hope that this memorial day, this debate and the debate that is to take place in the other place help to get that message across.
At the annual memorial service that used to take place in Hyde Park and now takes place at other venues, which I have attended for many years, a rather beautiful song is sung. Its title and refrain are the words “Never Again”. It is our duty to ensure that those words are given their full meaning.
My Lords, I congratulate the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry on her excellent maiden speech and welcome her to this House. Since she tells us that she enjoys singing, I invite her to accompany me after the debate to the crypt chapel for a rehearsal of the Parliament Choir, which has often sung in her cathedral. I hope that she feels at home in your Lordships’ House.
When I get up in the morning and dress to come to your Lordships’ House, I remember my mother as I put on the little ring that I am wearing, which belonged to her. When I think of her, I also think of my father, who had such ambitions for me. When I walk into this Chamber, I often look up and wish that they had both lived to sit in the balcony and see me admitted to your Lordships’ House 25 years ago. I have always tried to make them proud, because I am one of the lucky ones who grew up with my own parents and grandparents around me.
Although my father served in the British Army to fight the Nazis, he survived the war. However, millions of the survivors of the events in the terrible time of the Holocaust, especially the children, either have little memory of their parents or nightmarish memories of family members who died. I often think of what it took for Jewish parents to say goodbye to their children, who left on the Kindertransport or by other means, knowing that they would probably never see them again. To us human beings, as to many other species, our children’s lives are even more precious than our own.
We often use things—places, photos and situations—to trigger memories of those who went before. That is why we want physical memorials, events and activities to help us remember what we will never want to forget and ensure that future generations will not either. Art can often do that for us. A wonderful example is the collection of ceramic replica shoes made by Jenny Stolzenberg, now displayed in the atrium of Portcullis House. It reminds us that the Shoah, and the other Holocaust mass murders of human beings, was not about mathematical numbers, such as 6 million; it was about 6 million individual people with 12 million feet that took them to their terrible fate.
We should ask ourselves the question: why did it happen? I have my own theory. I have always felt that there are many different ways of being human and that we should treat all with kindness and respect. Indeed, that is a fundamental part of my political philosophy and the way I try to live my life. The fact is that the Jews were persecuted by the Nazis because they were seen as “other”, as they had been for centuries. That expression, which was also mentioned by the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry, is now used to indicate people who are different from the majority—people with a different skin colour, gender identity, religion, nationality, language or culture, or different traditions, values or ways of life. That othering can lead to discrimination, inequality of opportunity and even hatred and violence. That othering of other human beings is the danger that we should all fear most in today’s world.
It is not just about slavery, which we all thought was stamped out years ago but know is still happening; othering is happening in many different ways today: racial discrimination of all kinds, antisemitism, the bombing of Ukrainian people by the Russians because they do not want to be Russian, the repression of women in Iran who do not conform to the way that men want them to live, the persecution of people suspected of being “other” by ICE on behalf of the state in the United States. How ironic that indigenous people—yes, indigenous people—are having to carry their tribal ID with them on the streets of Minnesota.
All these things, if allowed to take hold in a society, can lead to disaster and inhumanity. We need to be very afraid if we see signs of it happening in our own country, and we need to stop it before it can take hold. After all, we have all heard the warning of Pastor Martin Niemöller from his own sad experience. Here is part of it:
“First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist”.
It then goes on, ending with:
“Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Jew
Then they came for me”.
We should speak out and speak up loud and clear for the kind of country that we are and should be.
That is why the theme chosen for this year’s Holocaust Memorial Day is so right. Bridging generations is vital if we are to alert our children to the danger to our country of every kind of othering, because, although we are reminded that the Holocaust was about the slaughter of 6 million Jews and the suffering of millions of others who survived, it was also a slaughter of other groups who were regarded as “other”, and therefore a danger to those in power. Power is so dangerous when it is linked to ignorance, greed and inhumanity. That is why I am glad that Holocaust Memorial Day is not just a big concert in a big concert hall and memorial services around physical memorial installations but small community events all over the country—in towns, villages, schools and homes, with their candles in their windows.
Tomorrow evening, when we look up at our public buildings lit up in purple, let us remember those who died in the Shoah and other Holocaust events, and let us celebrate and protect those who live on. Let us also vow that we will do everything we can to bring up our children in full knowledge of the Holocaust, and always to treat others with kindness and respect, no matter how different they are from ourselves.
My Lords, first, I thank the Minister for bringing forward this take-note debate on Holocaust Memorial Day, which falls tomorrow, and for her very thought-provoking speech. It was passionate, and I could feel that she felt it very deeply. I am also grateful to all noble Lords for their thought-provoking, passionate and moving contributions to commemorate all those 6 million Jewish men, women and children who were murdered in the Holocaust by the Nazi regime and its collaborators. I also congratulate the right reverend prelate the Bishop of Coventry on her excellent maiden speech. I look forward to hearing more such speeches in the years to come.
Having spoken in and brought forward this debate in previous years, it is a privilege to speak in this debate once again. This year’s theme, “Bridging Generations”, is not only an invitation to remembrance but a call to action. With each year that passes, we are left with fewer and fewer survivors and eyewitnesses to the Holocaust; it is increasingly up to us to pass on their memory.
The Minister read out the names of the heroic Holocaust survivors who have died this year. To their families and friends may their memory be blessed. It was this month that, sadly, Harry Olmer MBE died aged 98. Harry was born in Poland. His family was subjected to forced labour following the German invasion. In 1942, Harry, his brother and their father were sent to Plaszów labour camp in Kraków. After a year, when he was just 16, Harry was moved again to work in the chemical factories where many thousands died from poisoning, epidemics, starvation and exhaustion. Weakened prisoners were simply shot by the SS. In July 1944, shortly before the German retreat, a selection of those prisoners resulted in Harry being sent to Schlieben in Germany, a subcamp of Buchenwald concentration camp. As one of the surviving prisoners there, he was transported yet again, this time to Terezín ghetto in Czechoslovakia, and it was from here that he was finally liberated on 8 May 1945.
Harry came to the UK with a group of child survivors known as the Boys. Recalling his arrival, he said, “It was freedom”. The suffering he experienced clearly did not hold him back. He qualified as a dentist and became a British citizen in 1950 in order to serve in the British Army. He retired reluctantly at 86, and his commitment to educating the next generation continued all those years. We are lucky to have called Harry a fellow countryman. His memoir was titled My Revenge on Hitler is My Family, and I take this opportunity to offer, on behalf of your Lordships’ House, our sincere condolences to Harry’s children, his grandchildren and his great-grandchildren. It is an understatement to say that his story is an inspiration. It is a profound loss that he is no longer here to tell his story himself. Let his memory be a blessing.
“Bridging Generations” reminds us that memory is not passive. It is something we must actively carry and pass on. It is particularly alarming, therefore, that the number of UK schools commemorating the Holocaust has dropped by nearly 60% since the 7 October pogrom carried out by Hamas and the massacre of over 1,200 Jewish people. This is shocking in this country. I commend, and indeed recommend as a matter of urgency, the work of the Holocaust Educational Trust and the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust, as well as all the other organisations, museums, teachers and volunteers who commit to educating the next generation about the Holocaust.
Now more than ever, at a time when social media spreads misinformation to children, and when antisemitism is on the rise, as we have heard said so passionately today, they need to be taught about the horrors that took place and how it is that they came about. These horrors occurred not just because of a few monsters at the top, but because of ordinary people and the monster that we all know humans are capable of becoming. Moreover, children need to be instilled with, and we ourselves need reminding of, the values that prompted people to think critically, to be courageous, and to stand up to evil in daily life. What lessons could be more valuable or more important? Those educators who are denying our pupils the chance to participate in Holocaust Memorial Day are doing our children a disservice, and I dare say in some cases doing so out of moral cowardice.
Furthermore, the work of organisations such as the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust should not be confined to the classroom. It was not schoolchildren who committed the terrorist attacks in Sydney, Australia, or on the Heaton Park synagogue in Manchester. We on these Benches welcome the Government’s interventions in education, but also in security and taking action within our institutions. It is a source of shame that these measures have become necessary, but it is also a wake-up call that we all need to do more to uphold the dignity of every human life and to cultivate cohesion in our country.
In this vein, I give thanks for the work of His Majesty the King and all the Royal Family who, in the last year, have led the way in marking the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau and indeed of Europe. I also note that today in 1482 the first printed edition of the Torah in Hebrew was completed in Bologna in Italy. This set the model for the page format still in use. The contribution of our Judaeo-Christian heritage to our civilisation today is undeniable and Jewish communities continue in this country to contribute to our society in most extraordinary ways. I end by saying that my thoughts and prayers are with those victims of the Holocaust, their families, and all those who continue to be affected by antisemitism on British soil and abroad to this day.
My Lords, as ever on these occasions I am struck by the depth, dignity and sincerity of the contributions we have heard. I am not sure I can do justice to every powerful point made today, but I will do my best. I start by congratulating the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry on her excellent maiden speech and welcome her to the House. She reminded us of the way Coventry is linking its devastation in the Second World War and the hatred that led to that with the importance of speaking to our young people about peacebuilding and reconciliation. I am grateful to her for her words and hope she enjoys her time here in this House.
This debate is one that year after year brings out the very best in our House. It reminds us not only of the weight of our shared responsibility but of the compassion and the urge for moral clarity that unites us. We come together in remembrance of 6 million Jewish men, women and children murdered in the Holocaust—as well as thousands of Roma, Sinti, disabled people, gay men, political opponents, Jehovah’s Witnesses and the victims of genocides in Cambodia, Rwanda and Srebrenica. Their memories guide us, challenge us and call us to account. I particularly thank those noble Lords who have given their own personal testimony from themselves or their families today—the noble Lords, Lord Austin, Lord Evans and Lord Shinkwin, the noble Baroness, Lady Ramsey, and the noble Lord, Lord Howard—and I am particularly grateful to the noble Baroness, Lady Scott, for her tribute to Harry Olmer. The noble Baroness, Lady Ramsey, asked us in a quote, “Do you think all this is better forgotten”? I hope the fact that we are debating this today means that none of us thinks that at all.
At this point I pay tribute to Stevenage Liberal Synagogue, particularly to Terry and Gillian Wolfe and Rabbi Danny Rich, who have supported me in my attempts to continue to educate myself about the Jewish faith and the life of Jews in Britain today. The noble Baroness, Lady Scott, spoke about the Torah. It was an absolute marvel to me to watch Danny Rich pick up the Torah, which, in case people have not seen it, is the scroll that is unrolled in a synagogue. There is no punctuation and there are no spaces in it, and he explained to me how he navigates his way around that Torah. It has been a real education to me, and I am grateful to them for all of that.
A number of noble Lords, starting with the noble Lord, Lord Pickles, spoke very powerfully about the continuing scourge of antisemitism. The noble Lord, Lord Massey, reminded us of what an ancient hatred that is, but, of course, with a current and very present shadow that hangs over us all. Antisemitism is completely abhorrent and has no place in our society, which is why we must all take a strong lead on tackling it in all its forms.
Sadly, we have seen how events in the Middle East are used as an excuse to stir up hatred against British Jewish communities. The horrific terrorist attack on Manchester synagogue on Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar, mentioned by many noble Lords this afternoon, was an attack on the British values that unite us all. We stand together with British Jews and with all Jewish people. We condemn unequivocally the hatred and poisonous extremism that has led to these attacks. As we think about that attack and the dreadful massacre at Bondi beach, the noble Baroness, Lady Deech, raised powerful issues around 7 October and how we think of those and made a powerful plea that, as we face today’s antisemitism, we continue to keep alive the work that is being done to link the antisemitism we think of in terms of the Holocaust with what is going on today all around us.
I am grateful for the mention of the report from the noble Lord, Lord Mann, and Penny Mordaunt: I am very grateful for their work in this respect. The noble Baroness, Lady Ramsey, spoke powerfully about how we must confront failings in the organisations we are close to, even when it is painful—what the noble Baroness, Lady Harding, referred to as the very uncomfortable introspection that we need to undergo through our thinking about this. The noble Baroness, Lady Ludford, is right: speaking out is a duty for all of us, and the noble Baroness, Lady Walmsley, reminded us of the powerful words of Martin Niemöller.
Much of this antisemitism is feeding into some of the awful words we hear about Holocaust denial and distortion. The noble Lord, Lord Massey, spoke powerfully about denial, and the Government condemn any organisation or individual that attempts to deny the Holocaust. We are implacably opposed to people such as the revisionist historian David Irving and have spoken out recently against the Iranian Government, who are attempting to cast doubt on the facts of the Holocaust. The Government deplore attempts to deny the Holocaust, including those views expressed in a pseudo-intellectual manner. It is of course the case that if Holocaust denial is expressed in a way that is threatening, abusive or insulting and incites racial hatred, or is likely to do so, it is unlawful under the Public Order Act 1986. The noble Lord, Lord Howard, and others, said how important it is that these laws are upheld: they are there for a purpose and we must all make sure that they are taken seriously.
The noble Lords, Lord Massey and Lord Austin, and the noble Baroness, Lady Deech, referred to the impact of the current conflict in Israel and Palestine. We profoundly welcome the ceasefire agreement, of course, and are working intensively to support the 20-point plan for peace. It is vital that both parties uphold the agreement as we implement phase 2 on governance, stabilisation and construction. We continue to mourn the devastating loss of life on 7 October and afterwards and the ongoing desperate humanitarian situation in Gaza. We are deeply relieved that all living hostages have now been released and we continue to insist that the body of the last remaining hostage is returned. Even with the hostages released, we recognise that the trauma and terror Hamas’s actions have inflicted on hostages and their families endures, and we continue to work with partners to maintain the ceasefire and ensure the provision of urgent humanitarian assistance for the people of Gaza. Diplomacy, not more bloodshed, is how we will get security for Israelis and Palestinians, and that requires a political process and a political horizon towards a two-state solution. Over time, only that will ensure long-term peace and security for Israelis and Palestinians.
Much of the debate this afternoon has focused on issues around education and it is right that it has done so, particularly in view of the theme of Holocaust Memorial Day this year. The noble Baroness, Lady Ludford, mentioned Dov Forman and Lily Ebert. I remember very well listening to Dov and to Lily. The noble Baroness, Lady Deech, mentioned the distortion of social media for young people and how it is almost as if they are trying to educate themselves but they are getting a distorted picture because of what they are picking up from social media. The Department for Education actively supports schools to provide high-quality teaching on the Holocaust through the funding of two core programmes and we are also funding a two-year programme, the Supporting Holocaust Survivor Testimony in Teaching programme. Lessons from Auschwitz gives students aged 16 to 18 the opportunity to visit Auschwitz-Birkenau and funding for 2025-26 is £2,300,000. The Centre for Holocaust Education’s CPD programme supports teachers in their professional development, with the Pears Foundation and UCL contributing match and in-kind support of the same amount as the Government, which is £500,000. The Supporting Holocaust Survivor Testimony in Teaching programme will support schools in using recorded Holocaust survivor testimony in their teaching. Funding is being provided for that and being delivered by the Holocaust Education Trust.
The right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry referred to what is I think is the most important thing in this education, which is when you get an outstanding teacher who can inspire and educate you on these topics. Then there is the much wider programme of support for tackling antisemitism in schools, colleges and universities. Some £500,000 of this money has been awarded to the University Jewish Chaplaincy for student welfare on university campuses, where we know there has been particular difficulty. Training for university support staff delivered by the Union of Jewish Students began in November, with 600 sessions planned over three years, and the scholarship programme will provide in-depth training and a learning network, with delivery commencing from this month.
A tackling antisemitism in education innovation fund is launching shortly to promote tolerant debate, and successful projects will commence from April. The Department for Education’s Educate Against Hate website provides schools and parents with free quality-assured teaching resources, helping to navigate discussions over sensitive topics and aiding our efforts to end hate and prejudice in our schools. On 5 November, we published the final report of the independent Curriculum and Assessment Review, alongside the Government’s response. The report’s recommendations for curriculum reform will help tackle hatred and prejudice by ensuring that, in areas such as citizenship and religious education, the refreshed national curriculum and its supporting resources reflect our modern society. There will be a renewed focus on improving young people’s media literacy, helping them think more critically about the content they consume.
There have also been incidents of antisemitism on university campuses, as we all know. There were 35 incidents reported to the CST in the first six months of 2025 in which the victims or offenders were students or academics, or which involved student union societies or other bodies. Of these, 16 took place on campus or university property and 13 occurred online. That is a drop of 64% from 98 higher education incidents reported in the first half of 2024, but each one of those incidents affects somebody deeply and for a long time. The total is twice the 17 incidents that were logged across January to June in 2023, which was not impacted by a trigger event in the Middle East. The Secretary of State wrote to university vice-chancellors in October, urging them to take steps to protect Jewish students from harassment. Where lawful protest crosses the line into harassment, intimidation and the glorification of terrorism, we expect universities to use the full extent of their disciplinary processes to take swift and decisive action to tackle it.
Turning to the commemoration on Holocaust Memorial Day, our national event, and education and community activities, the noble Lord, Lord Pickles, spoke of the reduction in the number of events taking place in education establishments. According to the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust, in 2023, more than 2,000 secondary schools held commemorative events, but on 7 October that year, things changed. In January 2024, just a few months after the deadliest attack on Jewish people since the Holocaust, the number fell dramatically to fewer than 1,200, and in 2025, the figure, which I think the noble Lord gave, was just 854 schools choosing to hold an event, so we must redouble our efforts in terms of commemoration here.
On our Holocaust memorial and learning centre, mentioned by the noble Baronesses, Lady Deech and Lady Harding, and the noble Lord, Lord Pickles, I agree that we must face our past. The Government are determined to deliver on the long-standing commitment to build a new national memorial to the Holocaust. I join the noble Baroness, Lady Harding, in thanking the noble Lord, Lord Pickles, for all the work he has done on this.
The memorial will stand as a reminder to all in Parliament, and the whole nation, of our responsibility to remain vigilant against intolerance and bigotry. The new Holocaust memorial will honour the 6 million Jewish people murdered in the Holocaust and all other victims of the Nazi persecution. There can be no more powerful a symbol of our commitment to remembering those men, women and children murdered by the Nazis and their collaborators than placing the memorial in Victoria Tower Gardens, prominent among the buildings and memorials that symbolise our nation and its values.
I want to reflect for a moment on the comments made by the right reverend Prelate the Bishop of Coventry on faith and belief in the UK. For millions of people in this country, their faith and belief identity is a crucial part of their lives, and our nation is enriched by a diverse tapestry of faiths and beliefs. The Government are committed to harnessing the power of faith for national renewal, helping us to make progress against our missions and improving social cohesion.
The noble Baroness, Lady Deech, spoke about the importance of leaders of faiths other than Judaism speaking out against antisemitism; that is a really important point. I say to my noble friend Lord Sahota on the Amritsar massacre—a tragic event and one quite separate to today’s debate—that previous Prime Ministers have called the massacre deeply shameful, and the incident is a shameful scar on British Indian history. I understand the pain that it still causes in our Sikh community, and I am happy to discuss it with my noble friend outside of this debate.
I express my deep gratitude to the remarkable organisations in the UK that work tirelessly to ensure that the Holocaust is remembered and, crucially, understood. Their work goes far beyond commemoration; it shapes minds, builds empathy and confronts ignorance. Along with the noble Baroness, Lady Scott, and the noble Lord, Lord Evans, I pay special tribute to Karen Pollock CBE, chief executive of the Holocaust Educational Trust, and Olivia Marks-Woldman OBE, chief executive of the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust. Their leadership has ensured that survivors’ voices continue to reach new generations.
It remains profoundly important that the Holocaust is the only historic event that is compulsory within the national curriculum for history at key stage 3. This Government have made a firm commitment that it will remain a compulsory topic in the reformed national curriculum, including in academy schools when the reforms are implemented.
Our Department for Education continues its active support for high-quality Holocaust education through University College London’s Centre for Holocaust Education and its continuous professional development programmes and through the Holocaust Educational Trust’s transformative programme for 16 to 18 year-olds—which I mentioned earlier—and the survivor testimony in teaching programme.
As many noble Lords have touched on today, we are approaching a moment in history when no Holocaust survivors will remain to share their testimony in person. This is a profound and sobering reality. The survivors who have spent their lives retelling the most painful chapters of their past so that we might build a better future will not always be with us. That is why the responsibility now falls to all of us to redouble our efforts, to preserve their stories, to speak the truth when others distort it and to ensure that the lessons of the Holocaust are never diminished, never denied and never forgotten.
I thank noble Lords for the dignity, compassion and commitment they have brought to today’s debate. It has been a privilege to listen and take part in it. As we face a world where the comfortable world order so many of us have grown up with is disintegrating around us, it is even more important that we continue to remember these things. In this debate, we put aside our party politics for our compassion, our determination to remember and our common humanity.
I want to close with the words from the noble Lord, Lord Austin, that we must pledge ourselves not to platitudes but to action. Listening to the debate today, I think that we are all determined to do that to make sure that this is not just about memories but about creating hope for the future that this will never happen again.