Following his attendance at the 80th Anniversary of the Liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau, Lauder Fellow Lior Biran wrote a reflection on his experience.
To remember, to preserve, and to never forget—this was my grandfather David’s wish. It was an unwritten will that he passed down to me, one that I swore to uphold. Last month, I had the privilege of joining the World Jewish Congress (WJC) delegation in Poland to mark the 80th Anniversary of the Liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau. This experience was not only profoundly meaningful but also deeply personal.
Throughout the week, our delegation engaged in vital discussions on Holocaust remembrance and the challenges of preserving its memory in an ever-changing world. We learned from leading experts, discussed innovative ways to educate future generations, and reflected on the growing urgency of our mission. One of the most striking moments was an exclusive screening about Josef Mengele’s medical experiments—content available only to our delegation. Each conversation, each story, and each historical site we visited reinforced our collective responsibility to bear witness.
On January 27th, International Holocaust Remembrance Day, I had the honor of meeting Holocaust survivors and standing alongside them at the official memorial ceremony at Auschwitz-Birkenau. This moment was a stark reminder of the fragility of memory and the importance of ensuring that their voices continue to be heard. As the years pass, fewer survivors remain to tell their stories firsthand. It is our duty to ensure that their legacy is not only preserved but actively shared with the world.
Nine years had passed since my last visit to Poland—my first was as a high school student on an educational trip in the 11th grade. Back then, I made a personal commitment to dedicate my life to Holocaust remembrance. Returning to Poland as part of the WJC delegation felt like another significant milestone in fulfilling that promise. The weight of history was palpable as I stood on the same snow-covered railway tracks where so many—including members of my own family—were led to their deaths. Dressed in a suit, gazing at the infamous entrance gate of the camp, I couldn’t help but imagine my grandfather's family walking these very paths. My grandfather survived the Holocaust, but nearly his entire family perished in Auschwitz. Their names are recorded in the Book of Names at Auschwitz, on page 1,144 of 20,000, under the Birenholz family. Seeing their names in that book was a stark and painful reminder of the lives lost—but also of the resilience that allowed me to stand there, decades later, carrying forward their story.
Despite the heaviness of history, this experience left me with an unshakable sense of hope and determination. I returned with renewed strength, knowing that what I am doing—volunteering, leading projects, and preserving the memory of the Holocaust—is meaningful and necessary. We must ensure that future generations understand not only the atrocities of the past but also the responsibility we all share in fighting antisemitism, strengthening and uniting Jewish communities around the world.
I extend my deepest gratitude to the World Jewish Congress, WJC NextGen, the Lauder Fellowship, and the remarkable members of this delegation. This journey reinforced my belief that remembrance is not a passive act—it is a call to action. And we should intend to answer that call, now and always.