Under the solemn arches of the National Museum of the Philippines, silence settled over the audience as Israel’s Ambassador to the Philippines, Ilan Fluss, stood before them.
The occasion was International Holocaust Remembrance Day — an annual tribute to the 6 million Jewish lives lost in the Holocaust.
It was not merely a day of remembrance; it was a stark warning.
“We gather today in solemn remembrance of one of history’s darkest chapters,” Fluss began, his voice carrying both sorrow and urgency.
“This commemoration is more than an act of remembrance: it is a call to action.”
The Holocaust was unlike any other atrocity, Fluss reminded his audience. While World War II claimed millions of lives, the systematic extermination of the Jewish people was rooted in a singular, chilling objective: Total annihilation.
“The Nazis came horrifyingly close to succeeding,” he said. “One-third of the Jewish population was annihilated. Our nation never recovered, and we are not close to that number ever since.”
To illustrate the immense intellectual and cultural loss, Fluss recounted an anecdote about the German mathematician David Hilbert.
When a Nazi official inquired whether Göttingen University had suffered from the removal of Jewish professors, Hilbert’s reply was cutting: “Suffered? It doesn’t exist anymore.”
Amid the statistics and history lessons, Fluss shared the deeply personal story of Yosef Weiner, a Holocaust survivor whose life embodied both resilience and tragedy.
Yosef, born in 1927, lost nearly his entire family in the Bochnia Ghetto.
For five harrowing years, he survived by hiding in the forest, sleeping in barns to keep from freezing to death.
After the war, he built a new life in Israel, fought in the War of Independence, and raised a thriving family.
But history, in a cruel twist, repeated itself.
On 7 October 2023, Hamas terrorists launched a brutal attack on Israel, killing over a thousand civilians. Among the victims were Yosef’s beloved grandson Yahav and granddaughter Hadar, along with her husband.
“Once again, I find myself depleted, drowning in sorrow,” Yosef had written after the attack. “This time, there is no earth left for me to hold on to.”
Two months later, Yosef passed away. His family believes he died of a broken heart.
The shadow of antisemitism, Fluss warned, is growing once more. Since the 7 October attack, incidents of antisemitic violence and rhetoric have surged worldwide — by 360 percent in the US, 733 percent in Canada, and 442 percent in the UK.
The Philippines, once considered a refuge, has not been immune. According to a recent survey, antisemitic sentiments in the country have risen from 3 percent in 2014 to a shocking 42 percent in 2024.
Fluss said gravely: “And we cannot simply watch as this hateful ideology spreads.”
Fluss praised the Philippines for its historic role in providing sanctuary to 1,300 Jewish refugees in 1938-1939 under President Manuel Quezon:
“This act of humanity not only saved lives but also preserved the future of entire families. President Quezon’s compassion and moral values remain a lesson for us all.”
He also commended the Department of Education for incorporating Holocaust education into Philippine schools — a crucial step in ensuring that history’s mistakes are not repeated.
Fluss shared a deeply personal story: his grandfather, Karl Rosenberg, was arrested by the Gestapo in 1937 and later sent to Auschwitz, where he was murdered.
In his final days, Rosenberg wrote poetry in secret, his words memorized by a fellow prisoner who survived to share them.
“We must never forget,” Fluss declared. “Never again will we allow such horrors to unfold. In times of cruelty and injustice, we cannot be merely bystanders. We must stand firm against hatred and ensure that the mistakes of the past are never repeated.”
The weight of history pressed upon the room: It was not just an event to mark the past — it was a warning for the future.