When Vladimir Putin’s Russia invaded Ukraine, my father was Russia’s captive in Eastern Kazakhstan and the Siberian winter was beginning.
He wasn’t there himself, of course. He’d just arrived there in the book I have been writing about my parents’ experiences in the Second World War. It was just as I was starting on writing that part of the story that the Ukraine news broke.
As a result I have spent a good part of the last three or four years researching the history of the part of the world Dad came from. Lwow in Eastern Poland or Lviv in Western Ukraine, as it now is.
Anyone who has spent any time – even a little – on such a task will immediately appreciate how complicated the history of Ukraine is. And, particularly, how complicated the relationship of Jews has been to the competing nationalisms of the area.
As Lemberg / Lwow / Lviv changed hands repeatedly in a series of conflicts during and after the First World War, the incoming power would blame the Jews for having supported the outgoing power. Then the incoming power would be outgoing and a new incoming power, who might have themselves held power before, would blame the Jews for supporting the previous power, even when that previous power had persecuted them.
It is all about as comprehensible as it sounds, with the only easy-to-grasp common point being that everyone had a go at killing or discriminating against the Jews.
From this, I think a few points arise.
The first and simplest is this. The journey of Ukraine towards becoming a modern European state is something that Jews should both celebrate and defend.
There are few things more closely connected to our modern history. For Ukraine to unite and fight behind the leadership of a Jewish President who seeks to be a member of the international community is something Jews can only marvel at.
The fight for the freedom and independence of modern Ukraine is a Jewish fight as well as something in which the whole Western world is engaged.
Second, this does not require us to forget the experiences of Jews at the hand of Ukrainians within living memory.
On the contrary. It is by being honest about what happened during the Holocaust that we can better understand what is at stake now. My grandmother, daughter of Lviv, was one of seven children and the only one to survive the war. Ukrainians also played a role in the death of members of my mother’s family, even though they were arrested in Holland.
When I visited Ukraine in the autumn, it was a country just beginning to face its past. I watched as the brilliant author and human rights lawyer Philippe Sands gently probed and encouraged them to do it. His approach of love, affection and relentless insistence on the truth seemed just right to me.
Part of the fight is to allow this difficult work of historical reckoning and learning to continue.
And third, what this war shows is just how important our work of Holocaust education is. Putin understands the value of historical narrative. His distorted view of the truth is what has fuelled his aggression and acted as a cover for it, too.
He has benefitted immensely from the fact that after World War Two, there was no reckoning for Soviet crimes, no real truth-telling.
Russian diplomats and propagandists have been assiduous in trying to blame all that happened in World War Two on the Poles and the Ukrainians. They try not to mention the Katyn massacre or the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact or their own murderous activities: the Ukrainians they killed, the Poles they shot or deported.
Covering this up, denying the blame for it or minimising it, has been a major part of the preparation for the latest war.
Our Holocaust education work, therefore, is not just about commemoration, and not just about ensuring that loved ones are not forgotten. It is about the present and about the future. It is part of the current political argument.
I strongly believe that reminding people constantly about the Holocaust has played a role in the robust Western response to Putin. It has helped people understand who he is, what he is trying to do and where that can lead.On a personal level, this has increased my resolve to engage in that work and support others who do.
Daniel Finkelstein is associate editor of The Times.