Speech on the Day of Remembrance of the Victims of National Socialism on 27 January 2026

Dear Members of the German Bundestag and the Saxon State Parliament,
Dear members of the Chemnitz City Council,
Dr Langenfeld,
Dear residents of Chemnitz,
Dear guests,
Dear pupils,

It is 27 January 1945, a bitterly cold winter's day. Snow crunches under the boots of the Red Army soldiers. A huge complex rises up in front of them: barbed wire fences, watchtowers, railway tracks leading up to a large brick gate. Behind it - a seemingly endless sea of barracks. Wood after wood. Row upon row. Smoke hangs in the air. Flames are still leaping from some of the buildings.

At first, this place seems deserted. Silent. Dead.
But then the soldiers hear voices. Individual shouts. A groan.
As they open the gate, people come towards them - emaciated, exhausted, many sick, many closer to death than to life. Some rush towards their liberators, kissing their cheeks. Others sink to their knees and kiss the soldiers' boots. Not all of them still have the strength.

We know all this from eyewitness accounts.

Auschwitz has been liberated.

This place has become a symbol.
A synonym for the Holocaust.
The epitome of industrialised mass murder.
More than 1.1 million people were murdered here - mainly Jews, but also Sinti and Roma, political opponents, homosexuals and people with disabilities.

Today, 81 years later, we stand here in Chemnitz.
We remember the victims.
And ask ourselves a question that becomes more urgent with each passing year:
What does this have to do with us - today, in 2026?

National Socialism did not suddenly fall from the sky.
It didn't start with deportations and gas chambers.
It began in people's minds.
It began with words.
With mockery.
With marginalisation.
With the creeping death of compassion and responsibility.

Fascism begins there,
where people deny that other people have the same dignity.
Where the world is once again divided into "us" and "them".
Into valuable and worthless.
Into strong and weak.


[Salutation],

If you ask yourself how such a thing was possible, then the honest answer is: because many people looked the other way.
Because many thought: It won't be that bad.
But we know today:
Fascism always ends in inhumanity.
And it always ends in destruction - if it is allowed to continue.

It often arises in times of uncertainty.
When people fear for their future.
When political processes seem complicated.
When the feeling of not being heard grows.

Then it promises simple answers.
An apparent order.
A return to the good old days.
And he offers culprits: Minorities, immigrants, Jews.

This way, individuals no longer have to deal with the real problems.
Not with social inequality.
Not with insufficient investment.
Not with their own responsibility.

Even today, we are experiencing developments that must make us vigilant.

Studies show:

Right-wing extremist attitudes are creeping into the centre of society.

Anti-Semitism is on the rise - especially among young people.

Hostility towards homosexuals is reaching new highs.

And fewer and fewer people are clearly rejecting extremist ideologies.

This is not a distant chapter in a history book.
This is our present.

And that is precisely why this day is more than a ritual of remembrance.
It is a mission.

Remembrance does not mean seeing the suffering figures in black and white photographs only as victims.
They were people.
They had courage.
Resilience.
Solidarity.

Many survived because they were there for each other.
Because they shared what they had - even if it was little.
Because they did not lose their humanity - even when they were violently robbed of it.

We must not forget this strength.

Remembrance comes alive,
when we connect it with our everyday lives.

When we ask ourselves:

Where do I stand up for others? Here and now.
Where do I disagree when people are belittled? Here and now.
Where do I practise solidarity - in concrete terms? Here and now.

It is never too late to oppose dangerous developments.
And the greatest strength for this does not lie solely with politicians or institutions.
It lies with civil society.
With all of us.

What can each and every one of us do?

Don't spread every piece of outrageous news unchecked, because scaremongering is a tool of extremist ideologies.
Network instead of withdrawing.
And: increase beauty in the world.
Because where people are kind to each other, where art is created, where compassion is lived, fascism loses its breeding ground.


[Salutation],

The fact that we are standing here together today - people of different generations, origins and convictions - is a sign of hope.

And it is a European sign.
The presence of the Honorary Consul of the Republic of France reminds us of this:

From the ruins of the Second World War, a friendship has grown that was once unthinkable.
Germany and France - once arch-enemies - now stand together for peace, democracy and human rights.

This shows that
History is not unchangeable.
It can be shaped, because we are the ones who write it.

Auschwitz not only reminds us of the past.
It speaks into our present.
And it asks us a question:
What kind of people do we want to be?

Let us keep this memory alive.
Not out of guilt, but out of responsibility.
Not out of fear, but out of humanity.

So that "Never again" does not remain an empty promise.

But an attitude.

Thank you.


Thank you to everyone who is here today. Thank you for taking the time - for remembering, for pausing, for reflecting together. Especially at a time when so much is loud, fast and often superficial, this is a strong sign.

Remembering the victims of Auschwitz and National Socialism does not end with a speech. If we now part with more attention for each other, with more willingness to oppose marginalisation and with more courage to show solidarity, then this commemoration will have fulfilled its purpose.

This event will be followed by a screening of the film "Justin Sonder" at the Metropol. The screening is fully booked; all schools and pupils who have registered in advance will of course be considered. Even if not everyone can attend today, I would like to strongly recommend this film - it is worth seeing and encourages further reflection.

For all those who would still like to see the film, there is another opportunity: on Peace Day, 5 March 2026, at 4:30 pm in the City Council Chamber of the Town Hall.

Let us take this memory with us. Not as a burden, but as a responsibility. Not as a conclusion, but as a mission.

Thank you very much.

(The spoken word prevails)