This year, as the March of the Living takes place under the shadow of war with Iran and Lebanon and amid a complex security reality, and as Israeli delegations are unable to participate as they traditionally have, the significance of the march has become sharper and more powerful than ever. Holocaust remembrance is not merely a historical matter. It is a living, breathing moral mission that compels us.
The presence of delegations from around the world, Jewish and non-Jewish youths alike alongside Holocaust survivors, has become critical. Every participant becomes both a witness and a messenger, carrying the story into new spaces.
There is no doubt that the absence of all Israeli delegations this year is not merely a logistical or symbolic shortcoming. It is testimony to the very real threat facing a people once again forced to confront challenges and war over its very existence. Yet דווקא out of this difficulty, a clear voice emerges: We will not be silent, we will not give in, and we will not allow memory to erode.
The March of the Living is taking place, in whatever form, out of a deep commitment to passing on the story of Holocaust survivors to younger generations, from one generation to the next.
As the number of Holocaust survivors continues to dwindle, our responsibility in the March of the Living organization only grows. We are committed to amplifying their stories not only on Holocaust Remembrance Day, but also in everyday life, in those moments when the world grows confused, weary or forgetful.
It is precisely here that we need historical perspective, their truth, and the strength of their spirit as a moral compass in this world. We need the comforting hand of a Holocaust survivor reaching out to a former hostage who emerged from Hamas' tunnels after hundreds of days, telling him, "I understand you, I understand what hunger is," and the hope that is given to them, because for them Holocaust survivors are indeed "our beacon of recovery."
At the same time, we are witnessing a troubling and even dangerous rise in Holocaust denial and antisemitism around the world. Phenomena that once seemed to have been pushed to the margins are re-emerging, openly and bluntly, under the guise of political discourse. Recent events on campuses, on social media and in the streets of major cities around the world remind us how the old hatred has not disappeared, but merely changed form.
In the face of this reality, the March of the Living is not only an act of remembrance. It is a call to action and a refusal to remain silent. The walk from Auschwitz to Birkenau is not merely a geographic route. It is a journey of consciousness, a journey of identity and a journey of responsibility. It is a human encounter between the living testimony of Holocaust survivors and a young generation growing up in a world of disinformation and moral confusion.
Holocaust survivors are not only closing a circle. They are reopening it. Through their testimony, their presence and their direct encounter with the next generation, they infuse memory with meaning for generations to come. Memory of this kind does not end with a single day of marching. It is an ongoing process of education, identity formation and building commitment. In an age in which historical truth is being undermined, the direct encounter at memorial sites grants validity, depth and meaning.
And so our mission is clear: to preserve the memory of the Holocaust and serve as a moral compass, to fight denial and antisemitism with our heads held high, and to remind the world that behind the numbers stood human beings, lives cut short, families erased and an entire culture that others sought to destroy.
This year too, despite everything, we march. Perhaps fewer of us, perhaps differently, but no less resolutely. Because memory is not a luxury for quiet times. It is an obligation, even in times of turmoil.
