Holocaust Remembrance Day was yesterday. But in Britain, it’s changed:
Schools are stepping back from Holocaust Memorial Day. Not because the facts changed. Not because the lesson became unclear. Because it became dangerous. Administrators sense backlash. Teachers fear complaints. Institutions calculate risk and choose quiet. …
The West forgetting the Holocaust does not dissolve Jewish identity. Jews do not require British schools to remain Jews. Jewish memory is internal. …
So why does this matter so much.
Because in Britain, and across the West, the Holocaust is not merely a tragic chapter to teach. It is part of the foundation of the moral identity that replaced religion as a shared anchor after the war. …
It built a rules based order with human rights language, minority protections, and institutional checks meant to prevent the machinery from ever being assembled again. It built education systems that treated remembrance as civic duty, not political option.
That is why the retreat from Holocaust Memorial Day is not a marginal culture war story. It is an indicator light on the dashboard of a weakening civilization. …
… [F]ear of backlash now outranks fear of forgetting. …
This is Britain quietly admitting it is no longer sure who it is.
A country that cannot commemorate the clearest moral lesson in its modern history without fear has already begun the next chapter.
I’m not British and don’t claim to know for sure, but my sense from across the pond is that it’s actually worse than that. There is some fear of backlash, of course. But much of British society – both imported and homegrown – has become more anti-Semitic, and the schools themselves are probably staffed by more and more teachers and administrators who at best don’t care about the Holocaust and at worst wish it had been more successful.
What’s more, as the actual event recedes, there’s an understandable diminution of caring as well as knowledge. Unless a person is especially interested in the topic, and makes an effort to read in depth about what is admittedly a distressing example of evil, it is possible to gain only a very cursory and sometimes flawed understanding of what the Holocaust was, how it worked, and what it meant.
It also becomes easier and easier to have Holocaust fatigue and say to oneself, “Why are we learning about Jews and their sufferings compared to everyone else on earth who has suffered? What self-centered and annoying people Jews are; who cares?”
To some people the Holocaust has become a useful way to make false and cheap analogies against one’s opponents. To take a prime example, we have the abominable Tim Walz:
“We have got children in Minnesota hiding in their houses, afraid to go outside. Many of us grew up reading that story of Anne Frank,” Walz said. “Somebody’s going to write that children’s story about Minnesota.”
Speaking of Anne Frank, her father Otto – a person for whom I have the deepest respect – decided, for understandable reasons at the time, to edit her diary to make it more “universal” and somewhat de-emphasize her references to being Jewish. You can read about it in this article.
[NOTE: Here’s a post I wrote about an oft-quoted and oft-misunderstood quote from Anne Frank’s diary. And here’s one of many posts I’ve written on the Holocaust; two more can be found here and here.]
