The Roots of Anti-Polish Myths in Israel
- Anti-Polish narratives in Israel are rooted in historical trauma, political dynamics, and insufficient education about the nature of German occupation in Poland.
- Poland had no collaborationist government, operated a comprehensive Underground State, and created unique rescue efforts such as Żegota, Jan Karski’s missions, and the Ładoś Group.
- Cases of individual Poles participating in crimes against Jews did occur, but they were isolated incidents and not representative of state policy or societal norms.
- Yad Vashem misrepresented German occupation policies as actions “in Poland” and did not correct the original post despite diplomatic protests.
- Historical consensus confirms that Poland was a victim of Nazi Germany, faced the harshest penalties for aiding Jews, and thousands of Poles risked or sacrificed their lives to save Jews.
Anti-Polish narratives have gained surprising strength in parts of Israeli public discourse. Their recurrence in respected institutions and mainstream media is not accidental. They stem from a long-standing mix of historical trauma, political incentives, educational gaps, and oversimplifications that have shaped Holocaust memory for decades. Recent controversies – from the Yad Vashem post to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency article insinuating “widespread participation of Poles in mass slaughter” – offer a clear illustration: once a false narrative takes hold, correcting it becomes extraordinarily difficult.
In Israeli collective memory, Poland often appears not as a nation crushed by a genocidal German occupation but primarily as the location where millions of European Jews were murdered. This geographic association overshadows a complex reality: Poland was the only occupied country where helping Jews was punishable by death for entire families, it never established any collaborationist government, and instead maintained a functioning Underground State fighting Germany. Yet this historical foundation rarely enters today’s debate.
This omission creates fertile ground for harsher accusations. The JTA’s recent piece labeling the President of Poland a “supporter of Holocaust revisionism” is one example. More troubling is the claim that “many other Poles” took part in the slaughter of Jews – a statement built on misinterpretations and data detached from historical context. Such assertions ignore the structure of German terror, the absence of any Polish quisling regime, and the existence of the Polish Underground State, which not only documented Nazi crimes but also created an entire apparatus of resistance and rescue efforts.
A key example is Żegota – the Council to Aid Jews – the only state-sponsored institution in occupied Europe dedicated exclusively to rescuing Jews. Its activities included financial support, forged documents, safe houses, and coordination of rescue networks. Żegota operated under the authority of the Polish Government-in-Exile and the Underground State, providing a unique, organized form of assistance unmatched in other occupied countries.
Polish society’s attitude, though diverse, contains numerous examples of extraordinary bravery. Jan Karski, the courier of the Polish Underground, infiltrated the Warsaw Ghetto and a transit camp to deliver some of the earliest eyewitness reports of the Holocaust to world leaders, including President Roosevelt. The Ulma family from Markowa, executed by the Germans along with their children for sheltering Jews, symbolizes the price paid by Poles who offered aid. Their story reflects thousands of similar tragedies.
Another remarkable case is the Ładoś Group (Bernese Group) – Polish diplomats in Switzerland who produced thousands of forged Latin American passports to save Jews from deportation. Despite overwhelming evidence of their heroic actions, Yad Vashem has refused to grant the title of Righteous Among the Nations to Aleksander Ładoś himself, a decision widely criticized by historians, diplomats, and Holocaust researchers.
The deeper roots of the problem lie in longstanding stereotypes and an education system that, while rightly emphasizing the enormity of the German occupation and the threat of death that faced any Pole who offered aid, often does so without sufficiently explaining the nature of the occupation in Poland. History has repeatedly confirmed that for helping Jews, entire Polish families faced immediate execution, yet this essential truth coexists with the painful fact that, alongside the heroes, there were always individuals and groups who exploited the situation or participated in atrocities. The existence of szmalcownicy and the regrettable participation of some Poles in local pogroms, such as the infamous Kielce Pogrom in 1946 — an event that occurred after the war’s end but is often referenced in historical disputes — is undeniable. However, historians have long emphasized the role of Soviet security services, the climate of fear, pervasive post-war chaos, and the deep wartime trauma that shaped the environment in which the pogrom occurred. This does not excuse the crime, but it provides essential context and separates it from the wartime reality of 1939–1945.
Historians estimate that during the Second World War, Nazi Germany murdered approximately 5.9–6 million Polish citizens, including around 2.7–3 million ethnic Poles and 2.9–3.1 million Polish Jews. This means that about 90% of Poland’s pre-war Jewish community was annihilated. Before 1939, roughly 3.3 million Jews lived in Poland—the largest Jewish population in Europe and the second largest in the world.
At the same time, while cases of Polish participation in crimes did occur and were absolutely not representative of state policy or the attitude of most Poles, in some regions – particularly in the Eastern Borderlands under German occupation – more organized forms of violence emerged under direct German supervision. These included actions involving the Blue Police or auxiliary formations such as the Baudienst, which operated entirely within the framework of German coercion and terror. Recognizing this complexity strengthens the credibility of the broader argument: that Poland, unlike other occupied countries, had no collaborationist government and no state-level partnership with Nazi Germany.
An additional, crucial layer shaping today’s perceptions is the legacy of communist rule in post-war Poland. In 1968, the authorities of the Polish People’s Republic launched an openly antisemitic campaign under the guise of “anti-Zionism,” resulting in purges, persecution, and the forced emigration of around 13,000 Polish Jews. It is essential to underline that the communist authorities orchestrated this campaign subordinated to the Soviet Union, not by the Polish nation or any legitimate democratic government. Distinguishing between an imposed regime and society itself is vital to avoid misattributing responsibility. For many of those who later settled in Israel, the trauma of expulsion blurred the distinction between communist repression and Polish society, complicating perceptions of Poland.
The dispute between Poland and Yad Vashem further illustrates these tensions. It erupted after Yad Vashem published a post on X stating that in 1939 “in Poland” Jews were required to wear white armbands with a blue Star of David. The wording suggested that this measure was a Polish decision, omitting the crucial fact that it was a German occupation order imposed by Nazi authorities. Yad Vashem did not modify the original post despite protests from Poland’s Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski. Instead, it published a new post stating that the earlier wording referred to German-occupied Polish territories, but still stopped short of explicitly acknowledging or correcting the initial error. For Warsaw, this was not a minor nuance but a fundamental distortion: it blurred the line between the occupier and the occupied. It could be read as implying Polish responsibility for anti-Jewish regulations.
The deeper roots of the problem are also connected to the “geography of memory”. For many Israelis, Poland is remembered primarily as the site of extermination, not as a country annihilated by German occupation. Without context, the image of Poles shifts from victims and witnesses of Nazi terror to perceived collaborators. This shift is amplified by controversial, hypothetical, and unsupported figures, such as the claim that Poles killed “200,000 Jews,” which circulates despite lacking empirical basis.
There is also a contemporary geopolitical dimension. Israel today faces its own wave of hostile, fact-free accusations – including claims of “genocide” in Gaza – spread through emotional messaging and ideological shortcuts. The mechanism is strikingly similar: a complex, painful history flattened into a simplistic, accusatory narrative. Repetition replaces analysis, and emotional resonance outweighs documented reality.
Domestic politics in Israel further reinforces these distortions. References to Poland have become a convenient tool in internal debates about the “purity of memory” or the defense of Holocaust heritage. Each diplomatic disagreement with Warsaw quickly becomes absorbed into partisan conflict.
The intensity of these narratives was visible again in attacks on U.S. Ambassador to Poland Tom Rose, who faced harsh criticism for stating a simple historical truth: Poland was not the perpetrator of the Holocaust but one of its victims. His remarks – consistent with widely accepted Anglo-American scholarship – were portrayed as controversial or revisionist.
The result is a public space where emotions overwhelm nuance. Yet history remains clear: Poland did not collaborate with Nazi Germany; it had no quisling government; it maintained a functioning Underground State; aiding Jews was punished by death; and thousands of Poles – civilians, clergy, diplomats, resistance fighters – risked or sacrificed their lives to save Jews. Many have been honored at Yad Vashem precisely for this reason.
Restoring balance requires acknowledging these fundamentals. Only when the full historical record is recognized – not its selective fragments – can genuine dialogue replace suspicion and mutual understanding prevail over persistent myths.