I’m a Holocaust survivor – the rise in antisemitism doesn’t surprise me

This 27 January will be the first Holocaust Memorial Day that I am marking without my brother, fellow Holocaust survivor and Olympic weightlifting champion, Sir Ben Helfgott MBE.

Days of remembrance are moments where we stand between reflection and responsibility – we recognise the horrors of the past and we hope for the future. Holocaust Memorial Day is always a poignant time, and I hope that the unity it calls for can steady us and ultimately lead us onwards.

My brother Ben had a remarkable ability to bring people together, and this was always so apparent on Holocaust Memorial Day. He was a true leader from a young age, easily making friends wherever he went, drawing people to him with his charisma and quiet strength.

Ben passed away in June 2023, and even though he is no longer with us, his memory and legacy continue to unite those who understand the importance of Holocaust education and remembrance.

Ben was dedicated to Holocaust education. He knew its power and profound potential to take society and humanity to better places. Not because the Holocaust should be used for moral agendas, but because when we stare into its abyss and see the corruption, barbarity and depth of the loss, then our only choices are to be silent or to learn. For Ben, silence was never an option.

He spoke quietly but his voice was loud, a pioneer in so many fields. Holocaust education, Polish-Jewish relations, securing reparations for stolen Jewish possessions, and so much more. He knew the challenges, but never cowered – he only stood firmer, and advocated harder.

He also knew what was at stake. The preservation of the memory of the six million Jewish men, women and children murdered during the Holocaust. Ben helped to ensure that their trace on this Earth was never erased. Their memory was always at the centre. The need for justice was paramount.

He knew better than most what antisemitism is. The many mutations it can produce. The way it can corrupt and indoctrinate. The way it can destroy communities and lives in violence and cruelty.

Our early years were marred by antisemitism, the Nazi invasion of Poland in 1939 and the subsequent creation of the Piotrkow ghetto and all that he endured in Buchenwald and Theresienstadt, and I endured in Ravensbruck and Bergen-Belsen, turned what should have been our happy childhood into a living nightmare. Even after liberation and rebuilding our lives in England, Ben knew well that antisemitism never dies, it only lies dormant.

It pains me to think that the recent global rise in antisemitism online, in our streets, in our politics, schools and universities since the attacks perpetrated by Hamas on 7 October, would not have shocked Ben. He would be aggrieved, but ultimately well aware of the perpetual threat of antisemitism, and ready to face it with his trademark mix of practicality, passion and reflection. He called us to confront the threat of antisemitism, to be vigilant and receptive, but never to lose sight of why the battle is so important. It inspires me to think that he would not retreat or lose hope.

There are so many words you could use to describe Ben. A titan, a hero, a champion, a leader and an inspiration. To me, of course, he was all these things. But mostly, he was my brother. Precious family – the only immediate family member who survived the Holocaust.

True leaders leave a mark, footsteps to track. This Holocaust Memorial Day, like every day, I am walking with my brother’s memory.

Mala Tribich MBE works with the Holocaust Educational Trust to share her testimony