Jews,
Poles & Nazis: The Terrible History
E-mail
Single Page Share
More by Timothy Snyder
Remembering
Survival: Inside a Nazi Slave-Labor Camp
by Christopher R. Browning
Norton, 375 pp., $27.95
Z˙ydzi w
powstan´czej Warszawie [Jews in Insurrectionary Warsaw, 1944]
by Barbara Engelking and Dariusz Libionka
Polish Center for Holocaust Research, 358 pp., zł44.0
US Holocaust Memorial Museum/Miles and Chris
Laks Lerman
The sisters Renia, Rosalie, and Chanka
Laks, from a prominent Jewish family in Wierzbnik, Poland. Rosalie Laks—whose
testimony appears in Christopher Browning’s Remembering Survival—said
that when their father was pushed into a gutter and kicked repeatedly by a
German during the early days of the Nazi occupation, ‘This was the first time I
understood what the war was all about.’ All the sisters survived the war and are
still alive.
The hangings took place on the
last day of August 1941, on the town square of Wierzbnik, in what had once been
central Poland. Two years had passed since the joint German-Soviet invasion
that had destroyed the Polish state; ten weeks before, the Germans had betrayed
their ally and invaded the Soviet Union. Wierzbnik, home to Poles and Jews, lay
within the General Government, a colony that the Germans had made from parts of
their Polish conquests. As Poles left church that Sunday morning, they saw
before them a gallows. The German police had selected sixteen or seventeen
Poles—men, women, and at least one child. Then they ordered a Jewish execution
crew, brought from the ghetto that morning, to carry out the hangings. The
Poles were forced to stand on stools; then the Jews placed nooses around their
necks and kicked the stools away. The bodies were left to dangle.1
Demonstrative killing of
civilians was one of several German methods designed to stifle Polish
resistance. The Germans had murdered educated Poles: tens of thousands in late
1939, thousands more in early 1940. Since June 1940, the Germans had been
sending suspect Poles to Auschwitz and other camps. Polish society was to be
reduced to an undifferentiated mass of passive workers. German policy toward
Jews was different, though the nature of the difference was not yet clear.
Jewish elites had been preserved; some of them as members of the Judenrat
(Jewish council) or as policemen directing the local affairs of Jews in a way that
suited Germans.
Although fatality rates in some
ghettos were high, Jews in summer 1941 had little idea that they had been
gathered into ghettos in preparation for a “Final Solution.” The Germans had
first planned to deport the Jews to a reservation in eastern Poland, or to the
island of Madagascar, or to Siberian wastelands. As these schemes proved
impracticable, the Jews remained in the ghettos. It was in that final week of
August 1941 that the German “Final Solution” was taking on its final form: mass
murder. Two days before the hangings at Wierzbnik, the Germans had completed
their first truly large-scale murder of Jews, shooting some 23,600 people at
Kamianets-Podil’s’kyi in occupied Soviet Ukraine.
Advertisement
“I knew I
hanged the right people,” one of the Jewish hangmen in Wierzbnik recalled more
than fifty years later. He thought that those who were executed belonged to the
Polish Home Army, and as such were guilty of murdering Jews. The people in
question died, of course, not because Poles were killing Jews, but because
Poles were resisting German rule. The hangings at Wierzbnik were a typical
German reprisal, aiming to spread terror and deter further opposition. If it
were not for the testimonies of the Jews from Wierzbnik, this particular event
would have been lost. For most of them, it was a first stark demonstration of
German mass murder, if only a small foretaste of what was to come.
In his magnificent and humane
microhistory, Christopher Browning has drawn on the “written, transcribed,
and/or taped accounts of 292” Jewish survivors, most of them from Wierzbnik,
who shared a similar experience of the war. He treats these testimonies as
historical sources, believing that according them “a privileged position not
subject to the same critical analysis and rules of evidence as other sources
will merely discredit and undermine the reputation of Holocaust
scholarship itself.”
Here, in recounting how a Jew
forced by Germans to kill Poles blamed the Poles for their fate, Browning
reaches the problem of Polish–Jewish relations.2
While he is quite aware that this particular testimony must be subjected to
scrutiny, his analysis consists mainly in the comparison of multiple Jewish
testimonial sources. Addressing the evidence of the Jewish hangman, Browning
characterizes the Home Army as a “conservative nationalist underground
movement” that did indeed kill Jews, but perhaps not at early as 1941. This
description may reflect a consensus among surviving Wierzbnik Jews; it does not
fit the historical Home Army.
Interestingly, the “Polish
underground” makes several appearances in Browning’s book, usually behaving in
ways that are remembered positively: shooting Germans, attacking camps, helping
Jews. The Home Army, meanwhile, appears in this negative light, as murderous
and anti-Semitic. There is a problem here: the Home Army was the Polish
underground. Aiming to restore Polish independence from German rule, it united
hundreds of resistance groups. It represented a very wide spetrum of opinion,
excluding only the communist left and the extreme nationalist right. And it was
not just an underground movement: it was an integral part of the Polish armed
forces, under the command of the exile government in London, allied with Great
Britain and the United States in the war against Nazi Germany.3
Although the Home Army’s enemy
was Nazi Germany, anti-Semitism was indeed a problem in its ranks. On Rosh
Hashanah, three weeks after the hangings in Wierzbnik, Polish Prime Minister
Władysław Sikorski sent his good wishes from London to the Jewish citizens of
Poland via the BBC. Stefan Rowecki, the commander
of the Home Army in Warsaw, was irritated; such gestures, he thought, made “the
worst possible impression” among Poles. This revealed a basic tension, apparent
throughout 1941, between the Polish exile government and its underground army.
Anti-Semitism, Rowecki seemed to think, was so pervasive that the Jewish issue
should be tabled until war’s end. Many Poles had been inclined to support
anti-Semitic parties in the 1930s, and the experience of German and Soviet
occupation had not helped.4
Some Poles claimed to resent the
Jews who had taken up positions of authority in the Soviet occupation apparatus
in eastern Poland between 1939 and 1941, after the Soviet invasion of that part
of the country. Other Poles were corrupted by having taken over Jewish houses
or apartments when Jews were forced into ghettos in 1940 and 1941. Throughout
1941, Poles were debating the political and civic status that Jews should have
in Poland after the war. The exile government took the view that postwar Poland
would be a democracy without racial discrimination. Within the government,
however, nationalists questioned this position.
Polish wartime debates about the
“Jewish question” ceased only when Adolf Hitler’s answer became clear. The
condition of Polish Jews became a pressing question for the exile government
and the Home Army when the Germans began to gas Jews in the final weeks of
1941. In early 1942, Polish leaders believed that news of the shocking German
campaign would prompt action from Great Britain and the United States. The Home
Army thought that the revelation of the existence of gassing facilities would
force the Germans to stop. It transmitted to London the documentation about the
death factory at Chełmno that had been gathered by the ghetto historian Emanuel
Ringelblum. This led to BBC broadcasts about the mass
extermination of Polish Jews. The Polish government in London, though always
presenting Jewish suffering as part of a larger story of Polish martyrdom, gave
the mass murder of Jews as a reason for the British and the Americans to carry
out retributions against German civilians. In vain: the Germans were not shamed
by the publicity, and the Western allies took no meaningful action.5
In 1942, in Operation Reinhard,
the Germans deported some 1.3 million Polish Jews from ghettos in the General
Government to death factories at Treblinka, Bełz˙ec, and Sobibór. The asso-
ciated mass deportations of the Jews of Warsaw, which began on July 22, forced
the local Home Army into action. It supplied false documentation to Jewish
survivors, supported Z·egota, the Polish government organization that aided
Jewish survivors, and assisted Jews within the Warsaw Ghetto who were planning
an uprising. Operation Reinhard reached the town of Wierzbnik on October 27. As
Browning shows, an unusually high proportion of Wierzbnik Jews, some 1,200 men
and four hundred women, were selected for labor. Browning provides a
heartrending depiction of the selections that separated those who would work
for the Germans from the nearly four thousand who would be gassed
at Treblinka.
This scene was repeated
thousands of times in occupied Poland, but rarely if ever has it been rendered
in such detail from so many perspectives. Some families were forced apart.
Others divided themselves, not knowing which group was the better one. Some
people left their families behind. Others stayed with their families when they
might have saved themselves. Others still contrived to take their families with
them into labor duty. Browning gently evokes the kinds of morality that could
function in such a situation of extremity. He does not expect his sources to
provide an example of ethical behavior: “We must be grateful for the
testimonies of those who survived and are willing to speak, but we have no
right to expect from them tales of edification and redemption.” But he does
draw attention to the loyalties that did function: the bonds among families,
lovers, and friends.
The Wierzbnik Jews selected for
labor were in an exceptional position. By late October 1942, more than two
million Polish Jews were already dead, shot in what had been eastern Poland or
gassed at Treblinka, Bełz˙ec, Sobibór, or Chełmno. In 1943 and 1944, as
hundreds of thousands more Polish Jews were gassed at Auschwitz or shot in the
East, Wierzbnik Jews continued to live and work. They owed their survival to an
accident of geography: their homes were very near the Polish arms factory at
Starachowice, now taken over by the Germans. Jewish labor at Starachowice was
important to the German war effort. The Starachowice camps were not under the
direct authority of the SS, but rather run by a private
business, operating within a larger holding company. As in the Wierzbnik
ghetto, daily authority over Jews in the Starachowice camps was in the hands of
a Jewish council and Jewish police force. These institutions, which drew
heavily from families that had been prosperous before the war, distributed
labor assignments on the basis of connections and bribes. German personnel were
few, and the guards were stationed outside the camps.
There was little need to guard
the camps: in 1943 in occupied Poland, Starachowice was a place Jews escaped
to, not a place they escaped from. When Jews from Majdanek were transferred to
Starachowice, they could hardly believe their eyes. The place was filthy and
the work was dangerous, but Jews remained alive in large numbers, sometimes
even with their children. Some were able to supplement their minimal food
rations by selling belongings that they had left for safekeeping with Wierzbnik
Poles. Jews at Starachowice bribed camp guards to accompany them to Wierzbnik,
where they would carry out these transactions. Then they returned to the camps
with the food. To escape from Starachowice would be to court death. Jews found
by Germans would be shot. Although thousands of Poles aided Jews despite the
death sentence they faced for doing so, it would be an extraordinary gamble to
trust any given Pole. In this part of occupied Poland there was no underground
army that Jews knew would accept them, and no Jewish armed force that could
protect them.
1.
On Christopher Browning's evidence, the
hanging might have taken place one week earlier or later.↩
2.
A similar issue arises in Snyder, "Nazis, Soviets, Poles, Jews," The New York
Review, December 3, 2009.↩
3.
It was known as the Union of Armed Struggle
through 1941. The Polish government left Paris for London in 1940.↩
4.
Arrested by the Gestapo in 1943, Rowecki
was executed in Sachsenhausen in 1944. ↩
5.
See Adam Puławski, W obliczu Zagłady:
Rza˛d RP na Uchodz´stwie, Delegatura Rza˛du RP na Kraj, ZWZ-AK wobec deportacji
Z·ydów do obozów zagłady (1941–1942) (Lublin: IPN, 2009).↩
Also In
This Issue
Happy Birthday, Frédéric Chopin!
‘A Jewel of a Thousand Facets’
by Ken
Ohashi, reply by Helen Epstein
Newsletter Sign Up
News of upcoming issues, contributors, special events, online features,
more.
Advertisement
·
Home
·
About
·
Help/FAQ
·
Books
·
Feeds
Copyright
© 1963-2010 NYREV, Inc. All rights reserved.