Zachor: When Remembering Becomes Resistance
“Never Again.” These are not empty words; it is a promise. My dad’s uncle told him that at least ten family members were murdered in the Holocaust, and my grandma — my mother’s mother — consistently reminds me how our family escaped before the Nazis rose to power. In 1925, her grandpa read the book, Mein Kampf, took it seriously, and created a plan of survival. Our story of survival is part of our family identity. Remembering is not just commemoration, but resistance.
Why does it feel like we are the ones urging people not to forget? Why is it that even though Hamas posted videos of the horrors of October 7th, people seem to forget, or worse, deny it happened? If people can forget October 7th in a moment, they can forget, or even worse, deny that the Holocaust happened.
Just last week was Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day. During this time, the Hebrew word zachor (“remember”) weighs heavily on my heart. This imperative feels increasingly urgent in a world where forces actively work to destroy our identity by erasing our history, distorting our present, and threatening our future.
One tangible way to never forget is Students Supporting Israel’s campaign called “Undenied.” In the 1930s, the German Student Union led a campaign to burn books that opposed Nazism. As a result, many books of Jewish authors were burned. Today, SSI is responding by sending Holocaust education books to campuses across North America.
Evidence of erasure surrounds us. On college campuses, posters of Israeli hostages are systematically torn down. Last year, at American University, students reportedly ripped apart Holocaust education books from SSI Movement’s “Undenied” campaign. These are symptoms of a broader attempt to erase Jewish memory and pain.
October 7th was the worst day in Jewish history since the Holocaust. Hamas is truly disgusting—not only in their barbaric actions, but in their calculated campaign to make the world forget what they did.
Hamas terrorizes Jews in two ways: first through their unspeakable violence, and then by spreading their propaganda that erases the memory of that violence. They want us to forget the hostages still held in the Gaza tunnels. They stage grotesque “hostage release ceremonies,” presenting the hostages with “gift bags” to make it appear they were treated well — in an attempt to make us forget and convince the world that Hamas brutally tortured them, both physcially and psychologically.
What is insidious about Hamas’s strategy is how effectively they have convinced many that Israel, not Hamas, is the real villain. This distortion turns world opinion against the only Jewish state. If the world forgets October 7th, if they believe Israel’s mission to dismantle Hamas is not justified, Hamas achieves one of their goals.
They want the world to forget why the IDF (Israel Defense Forces) is in Gaza. They want us to forget that their charter states their mission to eliminate the Jewish people. They want us to forget the true meaning of genocide, a word coined to describe the systematic destruction of Jews across Europe. And they want us to forget all of this while weaponizing that very word against us—against the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren of Holocaust survivors.
So how do we battle this erasure? The answer lies in zachor. Remembrance is not passive; it demands action. Continue Holocaust education, using whatever platform you have. Keep putting up posters of hostages, even if they are torn down. Speak up about the hostages still being held captive in Gaza. Teach future generations about Jewish history.
Memory provides clarity. If we forget why Israel is in Gaza—to prevent another October 7th, to bring home the hostages, to dismantle a terrorist organization—we can lose our moral compass.
As Jews, we carry memory in our bones. We are the descendants of those who survived through remembrance––remembering who we are even when reduced to numbers, preserving our traditions in hiding, and holding onto our identity in the midst of horror. Today, we do not hide. We have an army to protect the only Jewish state. We are not the Jews with trembling knees.
In a world where Hamas and others want us to forget atrocities against Jews, remembering becomes both an act of resistance and a means of survival. Zachor. We will remember. And through our remembrance, we will ensure that “never again” remains a commitment to the future. I am alive today because my great-grandpa escaped Hungary during medical school. I will always remember and ensure our family legacy continues. Am Yisrael Chai.