Poles from Jedwabne burned alive 1,600 Jews from the town and its environs, in a barn near the cemetery. The Germans didn't have to do anything, apart from taking pictures and thus documenting the barbarity of the Poles. Official propaganda as promulgated by communist Poland subsequently presented the line that the Gestapo and Nazi gendarmerie burned the Jews.
1.
A letter from Montevideo in broken Polish: "Dear Mayor, I Ester Migdal, born in
Jedwabne, Łomża district, Białystok voivodship, journeyed to Uruguay in 1937 - me, my
sisters, brothers and mother. My grandmother, Chana Yenta Wasersztejn, stayed behind. I
know that Poles killed all of the Jews, I know who killed my Grandmother, her daughters -
her entire family. He took her home, and now lives in this house. Forgive me, as I don't
remember much Polish now, I haven't spoken the language for 62 years. I know no Jews
remain in Jedwabne because the Poles killed them all and took everything, and now there
are no Jews. What a bunch of bandits and thieves you are. You will get your just deserts
before God. Not a single Jew is left. You bandits, the marks of what you have done are
visible on your hands. You have worked the destruction of a whole town - you bandits, you
bandits. What does your priest have to say about this? Your people live better now? Kill
the whole town. How do you commit such evil? Now that you have homes that didn't cost you
anything, you can dance. Your God will repay you for this. Bandits, bandits. What evil did
my grandmother ever do? You didn't leave even a single Jew. Can you sleep at night? Write
me and tell me how it is now in Jedwabne. I can throw out these bandits, these bandits
from my house. Sir, write me telling me how you killed all of the Jews in the town. Can
you sleep at night? Killed the whole town? Is life better now? Bandits, bandits! God will
punish you. Write me, I want to know who lives there still."
Someone still lives there.
"How did you feel, to have lived for so many years among people who murdered your
loved ones?"
"May God forgive them."
"Have you never felt hatred?"
"May God forgive them."
"Are you afraid of anyone?"
"May God forgive them."
2.
"Since that July 10, 1941 the names of the murderers have remained an open
secret," says Jerzy Ramotowski, a secondary-school teacher from Jedwabne. "According
to documents of
the Jewish Historical Institute in Warsaw and Yad Vashem, Jerusalem, the
instigators of the crime were the Germans. Shortly after entering Jedwabne, the Germans
began to search for a place to hold the executions, and for executioners to carry out 'the
sentence.' Then a session of the local town council was held in their presence. The
Germans proposed sparing one Jew from each profession. But in the end things turned out
the way they turned out. This brings shame onto the people of Jedwabne, but you can't pick
and choose with history. The Jews were joint creators of the history of the town from the
eighteenth century on, and they and the Poles formed a common social organism."
All these bonds were suddenly severed.
In broad daylight, the Poles of Jedwabne hauled Jews from their homes. They beat them with
sticks, spades, clubs spiked with nails, forks and fists. First of all they were herded
onto the town square. Then, from a six-meter high plinth, they removed a bust of Lenin
which was left in the wake of the "Ruskies," and were ordered to carry it, while
repeating the words "This war was caused by us, this war was caused by us.."
They were herded down Sadowa and Cmentarna streets, then along a country road, where a
barn with open doors awaited them. The barn was made available by a resident, a member of
the town council. The Germans walked alongside, and did nothing. They took photographs,
which served as evidence of the Poles' crime.
"A few Jews were able to escape from the column of death," says Krystyna
Raszczyk. "I know this from my grandfather. Five of them hid in his orchard. Among
them were Hańcia and Szmujeł; he could see who was murdering his son. Szmujeł also told
Grandfather that before herding them into the barn, the Poles ordered the Jews to remove
their shoes, good clothes and jewelry."
The barn doors were closed; a moment later it burst into flames.
This torturous death rose into one great cry, heard in the neighboring villages. The
stench of charred bodies hung over the town for several days.
"I was just returning that way from my parents' place," recalls Jadwiga
Michałowska. "I cried as I walked along, over this tragedy and the war. My husband
was in Auschwitz. Today there's a gravestone for Jews in the field; this is also Auschwitz
for me."
Hańcia and Szmujeł hid in Krystyna Raszczyk's grandpa's orchard only a week. They did
not want to endanger the life of their benefactor or that of his family any longer. All of
a sudden they announced to him that they were going to Łomża, to the Ghetto; whatever
will happen will happen, and off they went.
It's known that the Jedwabne murderers were no more than a dozen or so people. All of
them so-called respectable types. They were joined by Poles from neighboring villages. It
started with Wizna. They got worked up about "beating a Jew", and were joined by
others from the outskirts of Radziłów and the outskirts of Stawiski.
"There was no ideology behind it. For me it was an ordinary thuggish murder, from
envy and for profit. A saying came out of it: 'He who in Jedwabne wears a signet ring
is...,'" says an old man. "The Jews, however, bore their share of the blame.
From the start of the war they sided with the Ruskies and informed them as to who the
wealthiest Poles were, and together with the Ruskies they drew up lists of Poles to be
deported. It was difficult to forget about this all of a sudden. I won't give my name.
From the newspaper it will get on the Internet and then Jews from around the world will
make me out as a defender of Polish thugs and an anti-Semite from Jedwabne. My family had
nothing to do with the slaughter, but as far as the Jews are concerned every Pole who was
of age then played some part in their extermination. Today the Holocaust is also a
business for them."
3.
The town square, Przytulska Street, Przestrzelska Street. The Polish homeland of
Fajgełe, Sara and Rebeka; Moryc, Icek, and Aron. The synagogue, the Hades House of
Culture. Honek Gerber's grain purchase center, Zimny's mill, Hania Stryjakowska's
haberdashery shop, Hania Kanowicz's dry goods store. It was from her that Antonina
Narewska, after passing her seamstress exam, received a present for her profession in
life: a fine pair of scissors.
"My family always had acquaintances and good friends among the Jews," she
recalls. "My best friend at school was Dwercia Łojewska. Just before the war she
left for Palestine. I missed her. And, then when 'this' happened I thanked God that he had
spared her life."
When only bricks remained of the Jedwabne synagogue after the war, the authorities sold
them to home builders. There was no shortage of takers.
"I refused: it's not right from a house of God," says Antonia Narewska.
"Those bricks would always remind me of the people..."
Not long after that, those with lesser scruples occupied Jewish homesteads and drew up
notarized deeds of ownership.
4.
In the fifties, the criminals of Jedwabne came before a court. A few served sentences.
The remainder immediately left town with their entire families.
"But the memory of them was constantly kept alive for us by Marianna Gosiewska, a
pre-war teacher," recalls Krzysztof Godlewski, the mayor of Jedwabne. "For her,
life always had clear laws: black is black and white is white."
5.
A fenced-in stone sits in an open field. An inscription is engraved on it: "SITE
OF THE SUFFERING OF THE JEWISH POPULATION. THE GESTAPO AND THE NAZI GENDARMERIE BURNED
1600 PEOPLE ALIVE JULY 10, 1941."
"The truth is sacred. It's obvious that the inscription must be changed," says
the mayor. "However, I'm not in favor of simply naming the perpetrators of the crime.
The assassins from Jedwabne were a handful, so the statement 'Poles' would be hurtful to
all the residents. Each nation is made up of people; it isn't exclusively good or evil. I
think the inscription 'Victims of the Second World War' would be the most fitting. As a
warning to all of what hatred is."
"And what will you write back to Ester Migdal?"
"That wounds should be left to heal and not be opened anew."