I begin by acknowledging the traditional owners of the land on which we meet, and I pay my respects to elders past, present and emerging.
I would also like to express my gratitude to Abram Goldberg OAM for his words and his presence.
I am grateful for your invitation to be here with you today to open the Melbourne Holocaust Museum. It is an honour as great as it is solemn. And its importance cannot be overstated. Especially now.
This Museum stands because we must never forget the Holocaust. Not the scale of it, not the depths of its cruelty. A savagery that was long in the planning and cold in its calculation.
It is to the great credit of all who shared the vision for this Museum, the architects who made it possible, and the builders who made it real.
Within its walls, quiet dignity co-exists with awful truths, each one of them giving meaning to the words we keep repeating: Never again.
Those are words that stand on the foundation of memory.
But memory must be a conscious act – as this museum is. Like a flame, memory must be carefully tended and nurtured. And it must be passed on.
In the words of that great scholar of Judaism, Jacob Neusner:
Civilisation hangs suspended, from generation to generation, by the gossamer strand of memory.
If only one cohort of mothers and fathers fails to convey to its children what it has learned from its parents, then the great chain of learning and wisdom snaps.
If the guardians of human knowledge stumble only one time, in their fall collapses the entire edifice of knowledge and understanding.
The guardians of knowledge have been so surefooted here.
For many Australians, the Holocaust is family history.
And it became part of our nation’s story.
Some 9000 Jewish refugees from Central Europe found asylum in Australia before the outbreak of World War II.
Among them was Gerda Cohen, the grandmother of the member for McNamara, Josh Burns. And the composer George Dreyfus, who is the father of the Attorney-General Mark Dreyfus. I’m very pleased to say George is with us today.
We consider how much that generation alone has contributed to the story of modern Australia.
Then consider the contribution that generations of Jews have made to Melbourne, the city that is home to the highest per capita population of Holocaust survivors outside Israel.
Acts of philanthropy, humanity and generosity, all driven by a powerful instinct to elevate and expand the life of this great, multicultural city.
It is an instinct that has been coupled with an equally innate desire to support community and support education, nourishing the aspirations of the next generation.
Then consider how much the Holocaust robbed from the world. How much energy, how much potential, how much inspiration and talent.
Such a vast multitude of life. Along with six million Jews – a number that falls across the decades like a shadow – this museum tells the story of the other victims of the Nazi regime.
There was no pity. No mercy. No humanity.
The scale of what happened – of what was done, what was perpetrated – means that for Jewish people especially, the Holocaust is not softened by the passing of time. It does not recede into history. It does not offer the one, slender comfort of distance.
Since the atrocities of October 7, Jewish Australians have been bearing a pain you should never have had to bear again. And you are feeling fear. Anxious that the long shadows of the past have crept into the present.
That should not be happening in a land that offered refuge then – and embraces you now.
As the conflict continues, antisemitism is on the rise. But we will not let it find so much as a foothold here. Australia will always denounce it and reject it utterly, just as we do all forms of racism and prejudice.
My Government is acting to make it clear there is no place in Australia for symbols that glorify the horrors of the Holocaust. And there is no place for those who seek to profit from the trade in these evil symbols, or use them to promote their hatred.
We owe it to our multicultural society, our Jewish community, and our survivors.
I turn to the words of Holocaust survivor Peter Gaspar, who lost 40 members of his extended family. And I quote:
The Holocaust didn’t start with gas chambers and murders and executions. It started with stereotyping, prejudice, discrimination, hate speech …
Those are words to heed. Every day.
What the Holocaust Museum so powerfully reminds us is that when we maintain meaningful contact with the past, we give ourselves our best chance of ensuring it doesn’t become our future.
To make the words ring true as we repeat them: Never again.
This Museum keeps memory alive for every visitor who steps through its doors.
I am honoured to declare it officially open.
