By Dov Forman
As we remember and celebrate those who gave their lives for our freedom, we must use their experience to take action against the bigotry, extremism and dehumanisation
May 8, 2025 11:15
Today marks the 80th anniversary of VE Day – the day the Second World War ended in Europe, when Britain and its allies defeated Nazi Germany, and millions across Britain and the world poured into the streets to celebrate.
But for some, people like my great-grandmother, Lily Ebert, a survivor of Auschwitz who was liberated by American forces while on a death march in April 1945, it was not only a moment of joy and relief. It was also a moment of profound reckoning.
Fred Weider, great-grandfather of Dov Forman[Missing Credit]
For the survivors of the Holocaust, for the bereaved families of the hundreds of thousands of British soldiers who fell fighting for freedom, and for those whose homes had been destroyed in the Blitz, VE Day marked both an ending and a beginning. The nightmare of a great war and genocide in Europe had ended. But for people like my great-grandmother, it was also the beginning of the struggle to rebuild a life from the ashes, with no possessions, no home, and with hundreds of family members gone forever.
Just weeks before VE Day, British troops had liberated Bergen-Belsen. Yet even after liberation, more than 13,000 people died in the following months from disease and starvation.
My great-grandmother often spoke of her liberation, the moment the war ended for her and the two sisters who survived alongside her. She was 21 years old, my age now, and still reeling from the horrors she had witnessed. She did not know what freedom meant.
Liberation came with questions: Where would she go? How could she live in a world that had tried to annihilate her? For many survivors, freedom was not a return to normality; it was the start of a long, painful journey towards healing and hope.
Yet VE Day was also a victory over evil. And for British Jews, it is a moment to feel deep pride: pride in being British, pride in being Jewish, and pride in those who fought to defend the values we cherish – values that are once again under threat.
Army tags worn by Fred Weider during service in Africa, Greece and Italy[Missing Credit]
Today we live in a world where antisemitism and hatred are rising, where communities feel more divided, and where misinformation and conspiracy theories spread rapidly online, undermining democracy itself. The world we inherited from 1945, a world shaped by the fight against fascism, racism and tyranny, is fragile. We must not take it for granted.
That is why VE Day is not just about looking back. It is about recommitting ourselves to the fight for freedom, tolerance and justice. It is about standing up to hatred in all its forms, whether on the streets or online. It is about recognising that democracy is not inevitable; it must be defended by every generation.
It is also about honouring those who fought. I am proud to count members of my own family among them. My great-grandfather, Fred Weider, my mother’s paternal grandfather, served in the British Eighth Army under General Montgomery, fighting in North Africa, Greece, Italy and Egypt. He left behind his wife and young son, John, to fight for King and country. He wore his army tags marked “Jew” with pride. Every year on VE Day, he would polish his medals and march to the cenotaph, remembering his comrades and his cause.
Medals awarded to Fred Weider[Missing Credit]
I am proud of all the Jewish soldiers who fought not only for their own people’s survival but Europe’s freedom too. Last month, I had the honour of meeting Mervyn Kersh, a Jewish D-Day veteran and one of the liberators of Bergen-Belsen. At just 20 years old, he was among the British soldiers who brought freedom to the gates of hell, who bore witness to the unspeakable, and who chose to tell the world what they saw.
Last week, at the Holocaust Survivors’ Centre, I had the privilege of meeting 102-year-old Henny Franks, who escaped to Britain on the Kindertransport and, at 15, joined the Auxiliary Territorial Service, serving her adopted country with courage and pride. People like Mervyn and Henny embody the very best of Britain, the very best of our Jewish community, and the very best of humanity.
Their stories must not remain just history. They must become our story. Their testimony must enter our collective memory, shaping our conscience, so we never forget where hatred, extremism and dehumanisation lead.
As we mark VE Day, we owe it to them – to the soldiers who fought, to the civilians who endured, and to the survivors who rebuilt – to continue their fight in our own time. To stand up against antisemitism and all forms of bigotry. To defend liberal democracy, freedom of speech and truth.
And to remember that the freedoms we enjoy were won at great cost, by people who were often no older than me, but who were willing to risk everything to defeat the forces of evil.
Eighty years on, we must honour their sacrifice not only with remembrance but with action. Because the fight for freedom, for tolerance and for truth did not end in 1945. It is ours to carry on today.
