Holocaust Memorial Day is not just for commemorating the past – it demands we interrogate the present

Antisemitism is ever with us. While its foulest manifestation, the Holocaust, is formally remembered today, all over the world we see daily informal examples of the hatreds that led to the Holocaust. Antisemitic graffiti, for example, was daubed on synagogues and Jewish shops in north London at the end of December.

In light of such attacks, one thing is clear: we must not attempt to fit antisemitism into narrow political narratives. In the UK, that should surely remain possible. However, there is plenty of evidence that historical revisionism is taking centre stage at memorial events across the globe. “Unfortunately,” lamented Vladimir Putin at the World Holocaust Forum in Jerusalem last week, “today the memory of war and its lessons and legacy often fall subject to the immediate political situation.”

But that is precisely what Mr Putin was doing in that speech, in which he insisted that the Nazis weren’t solely to blame for the Holocaust: “The death factories and concentration camps were operated not only by the Nazis,” he insisted, “but also by their henchmen and accomplices in many European countries.” He did not mention Poland; he did not need to. His aim was to rehabilitate Russia’s role in the early part of the Second World War – in particular by avoiding all mention of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact of 1939, in which Germany and Russia divided eastern Europe and in which Russia assured Germany it would not act if Germany were to invade Poland, which it did a few days later. (The pact was ended unilaterally by Germany upon its invasion of Russia in June 1941.)

As for Poland, its aim is to present itself solely as a victim of the Nazis and their Holocaust, using the Holocaust’s memory to strengthen its own nationalism and resist Russian hegemony.

Crucially, neither Russia nor Poland is actually interested in historical antisemitism, nor its present-day afterlives. Rather, both wish to simply set the record straight in order to cleanse their national consciences.

Indeed, antisemitism is arguably even more prevalent across eastern Europe than it is in western Europe. But western Europe has nothing to be complacent about.

There is a practical issue here for Jewish people living in Europe. As a German minister recently pointed out, many western European Jews are considering emigrating because they no longer feel safe. Jewish people in France have faced a series of attacks and are particularly concerned about their future. But antisemitic harassment has also risen in Germany, where 41 per cent of survey respondents reported some kind of antisemitic hostility.

This is dreadful. Today is a day not only to remember what awful things happened to Jewish people during the Second World War, but also to ask whether we are doing enough to root out the same dark forces that led to those 6 million deaths, and which still lurk in Europe in our time.