In one picture is a pile of lifeless bodies. A group of inmates who are still alive — known as the Sonderkommandos — are being forced to chuck the dead into a fire pit, hidden by a huge cloud of smoke. Another picture shows a group of women, naked, moments before their execution in a gas chamber. To this day, they are some of the only photographic records of the operation of the Auschwitz concentration camps and the lives they claimed.

These photographs were themselves an act of resistance. Hidden and smuggled out of the camp in a tube of toothpaste, the photos were shot by a camera through a hole in the pocket of a prisoner. Another photo can only depict the shadow of some trees. The fact these photos are blurred and slanted, however, does not detract from their power. Far from it — their imperfect composition is proof of the bravery of the people who captured them and the extraordinary measures they took to prevent the Nazis from hiding evidence of their crimes.

These photos, of course, provide only a glimpse of the industrial process of mass murder. No single image can capture the evil of the Holocaust in its entirety. Genocide cannot be reduced to a photograph. However, by helping expose to the world the evil of the Holocaust, these photographs became an enduring piece of evidence in pursuit of the truth.

There is another reason why these photographs are of immense importance: they prove that the unimaginable is imaginable. They make it harder for future generations to forget. And they force us to ask ourselves how humanity could possibly have let this happen.

It is not possible to summarise the history of antisemitism in one article, let alone one paragraph, but it is important to understand the Holocaust not as an isolated act of inhumanity but as a horrific chapter in a much longer story of anti-Jewish hatred. In this country alone, Jewish people have encountered racism and discrimination from the thirteenth century when they were expelled from Britain. Readmitted in the seventeenth century, they were subject to routine antisemitic language, which was also found in literature and art all over Europe. When Jews from Eastern Europe and Tsarist Russia came to Britain in the late nineteenth century, they were the primary target of the first Aliens Act of 1905. All of this is part of a much more widespread backdrop across Europe, whose end product was the growth of fascism in France and Germany, resulting in the murder of 6 million Jews, as well as 500,000 Gypsy, Roma and Sinti people.

That is where antisemitism leads you. That is what happens if you do not tackle antisemitism and fascism at its source. And that is why we can never be complacent when it comes to the alarming rise of far-right racism across the globe today.

In Europe, the growth of far-right populism has seen the rise of the Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) in Germany, Marine Le Pen in France, the Freedom Party in Austria, Viktor Orban in Hungary, Meloni in Italy. Meanwhile, their bases have been emboldened by governments — of all stripes — intent on demonising refugees and asylum seekers. In the past decade, more than 29,000 people have either died or disappeared trying to cross the Mediterranean. Politicians across Europe know that their hardline immigration policies will not stop people from making the treacherous journey across the Channel. That’s not the point. Their intention is to whip up hatred, division and fear. Anti-migrant rhetoric has infected global politics for decades. Without a principled fightback, it may well infect global politics for decades to come.

In the US, Elon Musk has been backing neo-Nazi parties around the world long before he raised his hand in the sky during Trump’s inauguration. The President has already pardoned members of white supremacist groups and declared a national emergency to carry out mass deportations of human beings he deems ‘illegal.’ Fascism is a term that should not be used lightly. There are many acts that are terrifying enough on their own terms without warranting that label. But beware, fascism doesn’t arrive in uniform overnight. It arrives with suited politicians, one piece of legislation — or executive order — at a time.

Fascism is, ultimately, a process of dehumanisation. It is an attempt to drain empathy from those in need, to scapegoat minorities for the problems of society and to engender indifference, disdain and hatred for those who walk the same earth as you and me. Crimes against humanity are committed by those who have been taught not to see any humanity at all.

This morning, I attended the Holocaust Memorial Day event at Islington Town Hall, which is always an incredibly moving service that amplifies the stories of those who were murdered as well as those who survived. It was particularly powerful to hear of the heroism of those who fought back in any way possible.

The photographs from Auschwitz have forever documented the inhumanity of the Holocaust. But they have also preserved — eternally — the humanity of those behind the camera. These photographs remind us of what can happen if fascism is not opposed from the very beginning. At the same time, they demonstrate that even in the most hopeless of circumstances, resistance is possible.