Among critics of the original event, Boris Rhein – minister of higher education, research and the arts for Hesse, the state in which Documenta is based – argued that ‘any comparison to the Holocaust cannot be allowed, as the crimes of the Nazis were unique’. While it is impossible to disagree with such a sentiment – which points fundamentally to the difficulty in doing justice via art to the specificity and magnitude of the Holocaust as an event – the difficulty in responding to the renewed threat of racialist supremacy without recourse to artistic statements should be recognised. It would appear that in the artworld we are prevented from entering into the fullness of a debate on the resurgence of a white-supremacist politics by our own rectitude. On this note it is worth recalling that twentieth-century German philosopher Theodor Adorno’s famous injunction on the writing of poetry after Auschwitz was followed with the proviso that we should continue to try to make art anyhow, as a challenge to the cynicism of the rightwing. While Adorno favoured an abstract art, which was as such able to circumvent the difficulties of directly representing human suffering, he was writing as a survivor of the Holocaust, who fled his homeland to the UK and then the United States to avoid persecution. As such, Adorno wrote of the best course of action once all opposition to rightwing racialist tyranny had failed and the worst had already happened. Today we face the problem of looking back to a past that we must do justice to while at the same time having at our disposal the full range of available rhetorical and artistic devices in order to counter the far right. As it stands, the sensitivity of the topic often leaves art professionals and academics hamstrung when facing rightwing imagery.