July 4, 2012

Krakov, the Polish city in which we stayed prior to seeing Auschwitz, is, well, charming.  That’s such a dicey word—right up there with ‘picturesque’—but, really, it is.  Cobbled streets are crowded with cafes and bars and with boutiques that offer the fabulous clothing worn by the women of Krakov: European classicism with touches of Eastern glitz. The central square, with its spired churches, patio cafes, and a market arcade first erected during the Renaissance,  has been named the most beautiful outdoor space in Europe.  Amber jewelry, a Polish specialty, can be found there, and cool conceptual art and paper maché figures of klezmer musicians and of Jews holding money bags.  Wait, what?

The story of Jews and Poland is really, really complicated.

Thousands of Poles risked their lives, during the Holocaust, to shelter Jews, provide false documents and aid the resistance under the leadership of the Zegota, a unit of the government in exile formed just for that purpose.  It’s estimated that, for every Jew who escaped the ghetto to live a double life on the ‘Aryan side’, there were about 5 non-Jewish Poles whose work made it possible.  Some Polish partisan units fired on Jewish units when they weren’t battling the Germans.  There are more Polish ‘righteous Gentiles’ (rescuers of Jews during the Holocaust) named at Yad V’Shem than there are of any other European nationality.  Some Poles pretended to befriend fugitive Jews and then turned them in for bags of sugar.  Others used fugitive Jews as slave labor.  Polish convents were among the safer places for Jews to hide.  Nuns armed only with their faith hid many Jews, including some armed resistors.  Many Polish families adopted Jewish children and passed them off as theirs.  Some of those children were raised in ignorance of their heritage and baptized when they were too young to understand what that meant.  Some of those children survived the war as Jews.  In Krakov, some people perpetrated a pogrom against Jews—after the war.  They had moved into Jewish homes and didn’t much care to give them back. There were also Poles who safeguarded the homes and life savings of their Jewish neighbors throughout the desperate poverty of the war with no expectation of any reward other than having done the right thing.

Every Polish person who escorted us on our journey was, at once, proud to be Polish, excited about what her country has accomplished since the end of Soviet occupation and also determined to scrutinize its Holocaust history.  They are young and fervent and smart, and if they are their country’s future, the world has a lot to look forward to.

What the Poles we met most want Americans to understand is this:  the end of WW2 did not mean liberation for them.  Poland was annexed into the Soviet bloc.  We see reflections of this history in the changing Polish narrative of the Holocaust.  Prior to the fall of the Iron Curtain, Auschwitz was commemorated only as the place where heroic Polish partisans and Soviet prisoners were tortured and killed.  That description isn’t wrong—except for what it leaves out.  There was no talk of genocide under the Soviets, or of Jews.  (Or of Sinti and Roma, so-called Gypsies.)  It is to their credit, I suppose, that the Soviets thought that discrimination based on ‘race’ and religion was just stupid, but not to their credit that they thought it was too stupid to mention; that they absorbed all “superstructural” distinctions into their narrative of class and nation.  They simply absorbed the Jewish story into the Polish story and absorbed the Polish story into a myth of Soviet unity.

So here’s a problem: Before Hitler invaded the Soviet Union, when he and Stalin divided up Poland, Polish Jews and non-Jewish Poles tended toward very different perceptions of the least evil.  For Jews, the situation was clear—the Soviets might not murder you.  Furthermore, while the Nazis were entirely honest about their aggressive, racist aims, the Soviet Communists made promises they didn’t keep.  They offered a sweeping away of old hierarchies, a new day of equality and justice.  While most Jews were not Communists (or affiliated politically at all), many young Jews were willing to give them a chance.
Not so most Poles, who saw history very differently.  They did not want to be dominated by Russia again, under any guise.  We learned, in a lecture from Dr. Barbara Klich-Kluczewska of Jagiellonian University, that Poland won its independence in 1918 after a hundred years of partition by Austria, Prussia—and Russia.

We learned that the modern Polish national narrative, constructed by cultural leaders to rally their newly constituted nation, relied heavily on volkish tropes of blood and soil.  We see evidence of this in the way that Polish citizens were referred to as “Lithuanians” or “Jews” as distinct from “Poles”, that is the ethnic group.  Eastern European ‘nationality’ tended toward distinction from ‘citizenship’ in a way that’s different from the French and American constitutional models—although, let’s be honest, in that time especially, France and the US tended to honor their traditions in the breach.  (The Holocaust coincided with France’s depredations in North Africa and the rise of the Klan in the USA, and a US State Department that deliberately delayed immigration for thousands of Jews who might have been saved from their deaths in the Nazi camps.)
While Jews flourished in Polish cities under the new republic; in the countryside, where most Poles lived, they maintained a distinct way of life, at a remove from the peasants with whom they traded.  This at a time when difference was seen as a kind of affront, not as something interesting.

And then came various occupations.  And everyone had decisions to make.

Today, Poland is engaged in a complex process of mourning and rediscovery of its Jewish past.  There are festivals of Jewish culture there—in which many performers are not Jews.  Can white guys sing the blues?  Can Polish Catholics play klezmer?

Jews are returning to Poland.  Not enough to repopulate all of the synagogues which are now museums, but there is growth now, not decay.  There are active synagogues again and JCCs and living Jewish neighborhoods and Jewish musicians to play with their non-Jewish friends.  And an on-going national conversation about whether Poland is a ‘Catholic country’.  So, yeah, it’s complicated.

Last year, the world entered a new phase of protests calling for social justice. It probably existed earlier, that longing for equality in the society, but last summer, the entire world felt it simultaneously. Israel, of course, took a meaningful part in the summer of protests. I am all in favor of the freedom of speech. This is one of the most significant human rights and is an essential component of Democracy. But the thing about freedom of speech is that it should be done right, and by “right” I mean with putting our minds into it. Lately, it seems like people in Israel protest just to protest. Like this is some sort of a fashion trend- everybody do it! Equal rights for the Gay community, recruitment for Haredi, lower real estate prices- they are all very important issues we currently have in Israel, but there is a point when fighting for justice turns to fighting just for a fight. When a country reaches this point- everything worth fighting for loses its value.

Last year’s protest was the biggest Israel’s ever seen. The streets were filled with tents, as people of the middle class gathered to demand social justice. This protest swirled everybody’s heads and got us all carried away. It took a governmental committee that accomplish nothing to realize this protest was unfocused and demanded too big of a change. Ever since, it seemed like the idea of protest really turned on people here. Soon, every subject concerning anyone was accompanied by a protest: subjects such as the prices of chocolate bars. Every struggle seemed to have a need for a protest for decoration. The outcome, I’m afraid, was a really bad Sukkah- too much decoration and no space to breathe.

Now it is summer again, and my Facebook wall is starting to fill with invitations for protests. People are calling me to place a tent in the streets of Tel Aviv and shout important phrases, such as “the people demand social justice.” “Going out to the streets” became a common phrase that no one knows what it means. Is there a concrete plan with an outcome the protests arrangers wish to accomplish? Because let’s face it- social justice is something we all wish to get, but none of us really knows how to get it. This takes deep thought and right usage of freedom of speech.

A couple of weeks ago I found out I was not alone with my thoughts. Protest leaders worldwide landed in Israel for a special convention, where they dealt with issues regarding social protests, and discussed the right way to throw a protest. Stav Shaffir, one of the notable figures during the protests last summer, took part in that convention, along with protest leaders from Russia, Greece, Spain and many more. Some made a difference, some are still waiting, and some saw in the Israeli protest a great inspiration. On one thing they all agreed: the outcomes of a true revolution take time. A meaningful change can be accomplished only by hard, consistent work, guided by a clear agenda. The issues which lead to all those protests were major, profound issues (at least most of them). And this kind of change is important for every democracy. Last week, some protestors started to use violence, as well as some policemen. A protestor was quoted saying: “We learned that setting tents accomplished nothing, so the police better watch out this summer.” Is this how we want to use our freedom of speech? Is violence really the way to make a difference? Some may believe it is, but not me.

This is exactly why we shouldn’t let the true solutions be replaced by a fog of signs and shouts. The struggle for social justice cannot be reached by simply stepping outside. It is an important part of the making of a change, but fighting with the government until one side starts to bleed will get us nowhere. I really hope this summer will be the true “worldwide spring.” I hope lessons from previous mistakes, along with the conclusions from the convention, will show our fierce protest leaders, as well as our governments, the right way. Governments worldwide should try and listen to the voice of the people instead of ignoring their voters, but the people should be willing to sit and talk, instead of shouting. History has proven to us all that great minds think alike, and that leaders work best together. This is our chance. Our time is now.