I thank the Deputy Minister for her statement. It's so important that we use Holocaust Memorial Day to remember those who lost their lives, the Jewish people, the Roma people, disabled people, LGBT people—anyone who didn't fit the twisted Nazi ideal. This date of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau has to be marked every year to remember, as you've said, and to learn from one of the greatest inhumanities ever seen on the face of this earth.

Deputy Minister, I'd echo your words in praising the Holocaust Educational Trust and the crucially important work they do in teaching young people about these horrors and the outreach work they do with survivors. A number of years ago I met Zigi Shipper, a survivor of Auschwitz-Birkenau. His story and his zest for life were, at one and the same time, life-affirming and heartbreaking. Heartbreaking because of how aware we all were in that room of all the stories that couldn't be told because those children didn't survive to live them. Zigi is now 90 years old—I think he's just had his birthday. As survivors of the Holocaust grow older, the time will soon come when no-one is left living who lived through the horrors of that time.

The Holocaust didn't happen overnight. It started slowly with a gradual erosion of rights and a narrative set-up of us versus them—the other. Of course, amongst the horrors there were stories of hope, like Sir Nicholas Winton's kindertransport, a scheme that ensured that children who might otherwise have died in the Holocaust were brought to the UK. The Government of the time could have done more, but thank God that that initiative born out of human kindness and compassion saved the lives that it did.

I'm sure the Deputy Minister will share my concern that the current UK Government recently refused to accept an amendment in Westminster that would have obliged the UK to continue to allow lone children within the EU to apply for legal family reunion here. I accept that this is not directly to do with the Holocaust. I would not draw a comparison and say that that is the same as the Holocaust, but we have never regretted moments of kindness in our past, let's continue this proud tradition. That's all I'm saying with that point.

So, on that, could I ask what assessment would the Welsh Government make of the impact of the kindertransport scheme in Wales still today? And what conversations is the Welsh Government having with the UK Government to plead with them to ensure that in the future migrant children will be allowed to seek refuge here?

Deputy Minister, moreover, the statement mentions a number of projects in schools aimed at tackling prejudice, which I welcome. But would the Welsh Government reflect on calls for teaching about the Holocaust to be made a compulsory element of the new curriculum? It's something that's come up a few times in the Chamber today. There's a Primo Levi poem that expresses why we should do this far more eloquently than I could. He says:

'Meditate that this came about: / I commend these words to you. / Carve them in your hearts / …Repeat them to your children, / Or may your house fall apart, / … May your children turn their faces from you.'

It's relevant, I think, to note that Primo Levi died in 1987 and the coroner ruled his death as a suicide. His biographers attribute the depression that gripped him later in life to the traumatic memories of his experiences. The Nobel laureate and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel said at the time:

'Primo Levi died at Auschwitz forty years later.'

Events like the Holocaust aren't just frozen in time. Their catastrophic effects linger and ripple down the generations. Deputy Minister, do you agree that we owe it to the children of the Holocaust, the Primo Levis, the Zigi Shippers of this world, and to future generations, to ensure that these events are never allowed to fade into the mist of time, that they can never be allowed to become remote, a horror story that happened to a different people in another time, when things were different?

Hugo Rifkind has a blog he published in 2015 where he points out that

'It happened here, in Europe. In lands of cellos, and neckties, and bicycles. '

It was not remote then, it is not remote from us now. We owe it to them, surely, to avoid that old adage, that terrible prospect, that those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.