My visit to Auschwitz last week was one of the most harrowing experiences of my life. I felt wave after wave of revulsion at the sheer scale of this barbarous, planned, industrialised murder. One million Jews killed in Auschwitz. Six million in total. All for the same reason. Because they were Jewish.

Amid this utter depravity, there was a particular image that continues to haunt me. It was a photograph of a German guard standing with Jewish prisoners – and smiling. As I looked across other photographs, I saw he wasn’t the only one. Other guards were adopting similar poses. These were not German soldiers reluctantly following orders or trying hide away from the horrific nature of their crimes. They were standing there proudly, as if wanting to be seen.

I’ll never forget how I felt at that moment. It illustrated to me, more powerfully than ever before, how the Holocaust was not simply the evil deeds of a few bad individuals forcing others to do unspeakable things.

The Prime Minister and his wife Victoria, who is Jewish, visited Auschwitz last week ahead of Holocaust Memorial Day (Image: Getty)

It was a collective endeavour by thousands of ordinary people who were consumed by the hatred of difference, each playing their part in the dehumanisation and attempted destruction of an entire people.

As we come together for Holocaust Memorial Day next week, there are many reasons why this commemoration matters – not just for our Jewish community but for the whole nation.

It matters that together we counter those who would despicably contest or excuse the facts of history. It matters because what happened in this unique and darkest of crimes must never be forgotten or diminished.

It matters because we must recognise that the poison of antisemitism has been despicably rising again in the aftermath of October 7, 2023 and that we must never allow Jewish people to be persecuted on British streets, schools, colleges and universities, just for that same of reason of being Jewish.

But it also matters because we need to tackle the root causes of this hatred. By teaching young people the lessons of the Holocaust – as well as the genocides that have followed – we can help them develop that crucial empathy for others, that appreciation of the common humanity of all people, which was so shockingly absent in that photograph in Auschwitz.

That is the ultimate way to safeguard the legacy of Holocaust survivors.

At this time of year, I am always moved by their breathtaking courage to relive their darkest moments so that we might learn and never forget. Our resolve this year, as always, must be to protect that courage for the future. To make sure that phrase “never again” means what it says. Never again.