About the Holocaust

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By: Paula R. Stern

March, 2007

It doesn't take much to change your life. Sometimes, it can happen in an instant, other times, it may take longer. My life was, in many ways, changed during the course of an eight day visit to Poland that I made with my daughter several years ago. I learned, saw, and experienced many things in many places. I was there to delve into the Holocaust, not to visit modern-day Poland. I did not care how the people of Poland live today, what they feel, how they deal with what was done to them by the Nazis. My sole focus, my only interest, was what happened in Poland to the Jews during WWII and, to a more minor degree, what life was like in Poland before the Germans invaded. But again, only for the Jews.

I saw Poland through Jewish eyes and only looked at Jewish places, Jewish suffering, Jewish history. This might sound narrow-minded but in truth, it was more a case of self-preservation. It was all I could handle, more than I could handle. I could not, in the space of 8 days, take in all that was Poland and all that was Jewish history in Poland and so I made a choice. I went to honor the dead, my great-grandmother and her two daughters, my husband's family, so many others.

The trip was a success, in that I saw and learned much. But interestingly enough, having posted my experiences and thoughts on this website, I have been contacted by a number of Poles who write that I hate Poland and all associated with it. Some are polite and interested in opening a dialog. Others are nasty, even making comments like, "And you wonder why people hate the Jews."

For the record, I am not anti-Polish or anti-Poland. I am well aware that the Poles did not create Auschwitz (or at least the Nazi incarnation of what Auschwitz became) and are not directly responsible for the atrocities that occured there. I am well aware that Poles suffered at the hands of the Germans and have a right to tell their story. On the other side, I do not feel obligated to tell it for them. I do not feel that I must answer to their dead, only to my own. I do not feel the Polish part of my heritage and argue strongly that my great-grandmother, who was killed because she was a Jew, not because she was Polish, would rest comfortably with my decision. My grandfather fled Poland long before the Nazis came. For him, it was a land of anti-Semitism, a land he hated to his dying day. I do not know enough about Poland to hate it, or to love it. I know only what happened to my people while there.

As a direct descendant of Polish Jews, I reject the concept that my great-grandmother and two great-aunts died as Poles. They were murdered because they were Jews. There was no systematic plan to annihilate all of Poland's population as there was a master plan to kill all Jews. What's more, while thousands of Poles rose to the defense of their Jewish neighbors and friends, tens of thousands did not. This was cowardice, but one I understand. In the face of the Nazi machine, normal was to be a coward; it was acceptable to allow others to die to save your own life. Thus the Germans succeeded for so long.

But I do blame the Poles for places like Jedwabne. In this small, idyllic village, the Poles were not innocent. In this one case, in this one village, we know that they took it upon themselves to murder the Jews, who were their neighbors, if not their friends. It wasn't the Russians. It wasn't the Germans, and to their never-ending shame, many Poles even today deny the sin of Jedwabne. They were approximately 3200 Poles, who chose, of their own free will, to murder 1/2 the towns population solely because they were Jews. The sin of Jedwabne goes far beyond what was done on that evil day back in 1941.

It is a sin of omission, of lies, of deceipt. The post-war Polish government decided to deny the crime, to write on the memorial, "To the 1500 Poles who died at the hands of the Hitlerites." But it wasn't the Nazis who committed the crime of Jedwabne, and it wasn't the Poles who were murdered. It took 60 years for the truth to be admitted; 60 years to correct the lie and still there are those who deny it.

For this, I do blame today's Poland and today's Poles. For calling Auschwitz a "museum," I blame Poland, and for the ongoing battles to give this horrible place respect and not open a disco (one plan) and other inappropriate activities on the site, I blame the Poles.

"I find your anger towards and hatred of the Poles very sad," writes one. She continues, "and though there was a lot of anti-semitism in Poland, it was the same all over Europe - all over the world, in fact."

I'm not sure if that is supposed to comfort me or lead me to feel less anger towards the Poles for what they could have done. Because others also hated my people, Poland is not guilty for this hatred also? This was similar to the line the Deputy Mayor of Lodz tried to tell us. "There was no anti-Semitism in Poland today," he told us one morning. I wasn't in the room to hear it because I'd refused to listen. As I said, I did not go to Poland to talk to the Poles. "And anyway," he continued, "it is worse in Germany."

"The Allies had more opportunity to help the Jewish people than the Poles, and they did nothing," the same person writes. Well, that may be - but it doesn't absolve Poland, doesn't lessen the crime of places like Jedwabne, it doesn't explain so much.

There is much missing from my section "About the Holocaust." More will be added, much never will. I have written of my experiences while visiting Poland for only 8 days. Were I to go again, this time I would try to speak with the people; this time I would try to open my eyes beyond the narrow purpose of my original visit. There was much pain in Poland during WWII. I do not believe that telling of the Jewish suffering lessens the suffering of others and I resent those who wish to quiet one story in order to tell another. Let the Poles tell their story, but stop resenting the Jews for telling ours.

My quest was to understand the pain inflicted upon the Jews and that is my right. I learned there is a limit to how much pain the human mind can absorb. Each person has their breaking point. Were I to go again, I would try to understand the pain of others and widen the brief look I took at Poland. I couldn't do it last time, it was too filled with death for me to see that there was life. It was too filled with sadness for me to see anything beyond what happened to the Jews of Poland.

I am well aware that there was a Holocaust well beyond Polish borders, though many hundreds of thousands were transported to Poland specifically to die there. I hope to write of others in the time to come. For now, limited though it is, I can only offer glimpses of the Holocaust I met in Poland:

• In Auschwitz, where I broke down before the crematoria.
• And in Chelmno, where I saw the grave of what I have come to think of as the Chelmno Baby.
• In Jedwabne, a symbol of absolute evil and the worst of mankind.
• In Treblinka, where only the stones remain to bear testimony.
• In Maidanek, where a massive pile of shoes tries to tell its own story.

And finally, for so many who want us to move on, certainly to forgive, if not forget the Holocaust, I have written of the moment when our response became crystal clear. It was driving my young son to school one day. He asked if the tattoos engraved on his great-uncle's arm would ever fade. We cannot forgive or forget because, in truth, it will never go away.

Copyright: Paula Stern 2007. All rights reserved.