Quarantine barracks at Auschwitz-Birkenau, Poland. Photograph taken by Auschwitz survivor Leon Jedwab, 1998. MHM Collection 838-97.

By Dr Daniel Haumschild & Alice McInnes

This year marks the 20th occasion of International Holocaust Remembrance Day (IHRD), which was established in late 2005 by the United Nations. When the resolution to create a global commemoration was conceived, 60 years had already passed since the liberation of Auschwitz. What that day meant to those who experienced it in 1945 was wildly different than what it meant when the resolution passed, and it has morphed and changed again in the two decades since. Yet the core ideas remain the same: remember those who fell victim to genocidal violence and educate future generations about the destructive capacity of humankind.  

Like all great traditions, IHRD is tethered to these foundational tenets, yet must be experienced anew in its place and time each year. As eyewitnesses continue to pass on, as the political and social milieu rapidly shifts, and as antisemitism returns to fashion, this year’s commemoration provides us with a meaningful invitation to thoughtfully, critically, and creatively commit ourselves to honour the lives of Holocaust victims in the present through both words and deeds.  

L’dor vador is an expression that emerges from Hebrew Bible. It is commonly translated as ‘from generation to generation’ and indicates the enduring task of remembrance and learning that constitutes a foundation of Jewish resilience. This year we reach into this reservoir of strength to refresh our commitment to memory and learning on behalf of hope and vitality.   

For those who were imprisoned in Auschwitz, 27 January 1945 was not necessarily a day of celebration. Survivor Rachel Anklewicz vividly recalled the moment that Soviet troops arrived at the camp not as one of freedom, but as one of fear and confusion: 

Rachel was just 21 years old, and had been imprisoned – first in ghettos, and then camps – for almost five years. Her experiences had taught her to fear the violence that the newly-arrived soldiers might – and tragically sometimes did – perpetrate against vulnerable prisoners, especially women. 

With very little support, and no framework to comprehend their liberation, Rachel and a group of fellow prisoners simply stepped through a hole cut in the camp fence, and walked into the town of Oświęcim. A local Polish farmer took them in, providing them with food, and straw to sleep on. 

Rachel was one of around 7000 prisoners liberated from Auschwitz and its subcamps on that day and in the following weeks. This represented just a tiny portion of the number who had been imprisoned in Auschwitz even weeks before; since mid-January, tens of thousands of prisoners had been forcibly marched from the camp, as their captors guards fled west to avoid discovery and capture by Allied forces. 

Among those who remained, most were ill and starving. Many adult prisoners weighed barely 30kg. The liberating Soviet forces established two field hospitals, caring for former prisoners suffering from tuberculosis, diarrhoea, starvation, and other illness. But attending to their physical needs was only the tip of the iceberg; it would take years for these disorienting experiences to coalesce into something that we now understand as a moment of liberation. Over 80 years on, successive generations are still reckoning with what that moment of fear, confusion, freedom and resilience means. 

As we mark International Holocaust Remembrance Day, we are reminded that liberation was not a single, triumphant moment, but a fragile and uncertain beginning. For survivors like Rachel Anklewicz, 27 January 1945 marked the end of one reality and the slow, disorienting emergence of another, one shaped by fear, resilience, and the lifelong work of remembering. To honour Auschwitz is to acknowledge this complexity and to sit with the human truths it reveals. 

In a time when eyewitnesses are fewer, and antisemitism and historical distortion are once again on the rise, remembrance must be active and shared. It requires spaces where stories are held with care, where difficult histories are confronted honestly, and where learning is grounded in empathy. Melbourne Holocaust Museum exists for this purpose: to preserve memory, to educate across generations, and to ensure that the voices of survivors continue to be heard. 

L’dor vador – from generation to generation – calls on each of us to take part in this responsibility. By visiting Melbourne Holocaust Museum, engaging with its exhibitions, and participating in moments of collective reflection, we help transform remembrance into understanding, and understanding into action. This International Holocaust Remembrance Day, we invite you to remember with us, to bear witness, to learn, and to carry these stories forward, so that the lessons of the Holocaust remain alive in our shared present and future.