Heroes, Villains, and History's Gray Areas
A Letter From a Polish Professor That Made Me Think Twice
A few months ago, I wrote about my complicated feelings visiting Poland, the homeland of my beloved uncle Shlomo, a Holocaust survivor. The piece explored my discomfort—how I found myself wrestling with a country that was both victim and, in some cases, victimizer during World War II. I felt the weight of history in Krakow's Jewish restaurants, in the paintings of stereotypical Jews clutching coins, in the once thriving Jewish communities where Jews no longer live. My feelings, I learned, aren't unique; many Jews I have spoken with after my essay came out harbour similar feelings about Poland, struggling to separate past from present in a land that was once The Paradise of the Jews.
Wrestling with Poland
Every Mother’s Day, I send out two cards: one to my mother in Montreal and one to my second mother in New York City.
Yet even as I wrote about these feelings, I wondered if I was being fair, if our collective Jewish perspective was too clouded to see the full picture. After all, both Jews and Poles share a history of being caught between empires, of having our sovereignty denied, our culture suppressed. We might have more in common than many Jews, myself included, are ready to admit.
Then I received this letter from Christopher Kowalski, a psychology professor at the University of Northern British Columbia. His response was everything I hope for when I write: thoughtful, challenging, and deeply personal. As a proud Pole whose own family history intertwines with both the horrors and heroism of that era, he offered a perspective that complicated my narrative in the best possible way. He pushed back against my oversimplifications while acknowledging the painful truths that sparked them. His letter made me realize that perhaps our collective Jewish discomfort with Poland, while understandable, might need updating. Perhaps reconciliation between Jewish and non-Jewish Poles requires us to see beyond our inherited narratives and recognize our shared humanity.
I was so moved by his letter that I immediately asked if I could share it with you all. What follows is his response: a beautiful example of how we might bridge the gap between competing historical narratives, how we might honor both pain and progress, and how we might learn to see the gray areas in what we thought was black and white.
Dear Dr Inzlicht,
I hope you are well. I am a fan of your work, academically, as well as of your Substack and podcast.
I read your post on Poland and I appreciate that this may have been difficult to write, given your family's experiences. However, I am grateful that you wrote it, as it starts a difficult but necessary conversation.
At the same time, I feel compelled to respectfully stand in defense of Poland. I am no historian, but I am a Pole. My non-Jewish Polish great-grandfather was murdered in Auschwitz and another set of my great-grandparents were two of the many unrecognized Righteous Among the Nations, having hidden a Jewish woman from the Germans, at great personal risk, so this topic is close to my heart.
Firstly, I would like to say that indeed there were Poles that helped the Germans in committing atrocities. This occurred for many reasons, including fear and force, but also for personal grievances, profit, and hatred. No serious person denies this, Poland’s previous government included. These individuals committed shameful acts, but it is important to distinguish between national responsibility and individual responsibility.
On the topic of individual responsibility, we can agree that there were Poles that did terrible things. This was the case for probably all ethnicities involved in the war. Poles were not the exception. There were even Jews who collaborated with the Germans in committing atrocities (e.g., Stella Goldschlag). What is also worth noting is that out of all ethnicities, the greatest number of Righteous Among the Nations are Poles and the true number of individuals deserving of this honor is likely much greater. It is also important to note differences in risk associated with helping Jews. The most common penalty for aiding Jews in Poland was death, sometimes the death of one’s family (see: Ulma family) and one’s neighbours. Compare this to the Netherlands and France, the second- and third-largest sources of Righteous Among the Nations, where penalties for aiding Jews were less severe (especially in France; in Netherlands they were still quite severe) and inconsistently applied. Hence the heroism of Poles like Witold Pilecki (who infiltrated Auschwitz; one of the bravest people of the twentieth century, in my view), Irena Sendler (who rescued thousands of Jewish children), the Żabiński family (who hid hundreds of Jews in the Warsaw zoo), Eugeniusz Łazowski (who saved thousands of Jews by creating a fake typhus epidemic), Rudolf Weigl (who saved many Jews by hiring them as lab assistants), and many others, known or unknown. Likewise, Jewish heroes in Poland are also remembered and celebrated like Janusz Korczak (who gave his life to take care of Jewish orphans) and many others. These are all, of course, acts of individual heroism, though often were enabled by national efforts.
Next, we have the question of national responsibility. Many countries in WWII had collaborationist governments (e.g., France). A point of pride in Poland is that there was no official collaboration with the Germans on a national level. There was no Polish collaborationist government. In fact, there was a very sophisticated Polish underground network created by the government-in-exile dedicated to A) fighting the Germans occupiers B) saving Jews (see Żegota). In fact, Poland was likely the only country where an organization was set up by the government for the sole purpose of aiding Jews. It was also the first government to inform the Western Allies of the atrocities committed on Jews, in the hope of intervention (see Raczynski’s note and Jan Karski). Also noteworthy, are the number of volunteer SS (see Waffen SS) conscripts by country. While there were volunteers from many countries (including Belgium, Denmark, Finland, Netherlands, Switzerland and even the UK), there were a total of 0 from Poland. Further, there are other examples within the government that aimed to help Jews in German-occupied Poland, such as the Polish Consulate in Bern, Switzerland (see The Ładoś group), who saved thousands of Jews by falsifying Paraguayan passports. Therefore, accusing Poland of national responsibility in the Holocaust is not historically accurate. Indeed, Poland was a rare exception in Europe when it came to this very issue. This differentiation of national vs. individual responsibility is also relevant to the Polish law that you mentioned. Claiming that a Pole was complicit in atrocities was not against the law introduced by the previous government. It was only illegal to claim that there was complicity at the national level (with exemptions for artistic and academic freedom). Either way, one may reasonably find such speech laws distasteful (as I do), but it was not at odds with historical truth.
Furthermore, you bring up many different points from history and recent events. I will comment briefly on a few of these.
With regard to Jedwabne, much remains unclear and will likely remain unclear as full exhumations are not presently allowed, as the Jewish community has requested that the bones not be disturbed. Regarding Gross’s work, researchers have pointed out many issues, including terribly overstated numbers of victims, reliance on witness reports obtained through torture by the Communist authorities, and inconsistencies in survivor reports. This is not to say that this event did not occur, but many of the details are highly controversial, especially considering earlier reports by Szymon Datner (historian and Holocaust survivor), who claimed that the Germans provoked and forced Poles to commit acts of violence against the victims, and when this failed, they committed much of the violence themselves. This is inconsistent with the context provided by Gross.
As for the Kielce pogrom, there's important context needed to understand this event. This event happened and the violence of the Poles involved was reprehensible. This, however, was not a spontaneous occurrence spurred by anti-Semitism. Much of the available evidence (noting that much of the evidence was destroyed by the Communist authorities) suggests that the non-sovereign Communist regime and the NKVD intentionally incited this pogrom and played key roles in the violence, perhaps to distract civilian Poles from the fraudulent referendum a few days prior and the topic of the Katyń massacre committed on 22,000 Poles by the NKVD (a topic then discussed at the Nuremberg Trials). While ethnic tensions existed in the area prior to this, the provocation was the immediate cause of the violence. Though this does nothing to excuse horrific crimes, I believe this context is important.
Finally, I will conclude with this. Dr. Inzlicht, I hope that one day you will learn to love Poland the way it was loved by Arthur Rubenstein, who was angered when he saw that there was no Polish delegation or flag present at the inauguration of the UN (to the appeasement of Stalin), and during his performance he urged everyone to stand (including the Soviets) while he loudly and slowly played the Polish national anthem. I realize that it's rather unlikely that this will happen. At the very least, I hope that you will find comfort in Poland, as the land of your uncle. I will leave a link below to a statement by a great Polish-Jew and Holocaust survivor who sadly passed not long ago, Edward Mosberg.
Sincerely,
Christopher Marcin Kowalski
Assistant Professor
Department of Psychology
University of Northern British Columbia