Poland ‘resisting’ Holocaust victim plaques
Relatives facing obstacles to memorials outside old family homes suggest anti-Semitism is to blame
THE black and white wedding picture from 1920 shows people outside the home of Evelyn Fine’s grandparents in Grajewo, a town in north-east Poland.
Come the end of the war 25 years later and most were dead, consumed by the Holocaust. Like many descendants of the victims, Ms Fine wants to commemorate her grandparents with a brass plate – a stolperstein – set in concrete and planted among the cobbles in front of the old family home.
They are common in Europe but not in Poland, despite it once being home to the largest Jewish population in prewar Europe (3million). Now those who want to lay them say the authorities are putting up petty bureaucratic obstacles to hide anti-Semitic sentiments.
“I’ve been told people would step on them or dogs would pee on them,” said Nora Lerner, who has been trying to lay a plaque in Krakow. “It’s ridiculous. This is a private project. I pay for it, for my relatives who have no known graves.
“It’s megalomania – they consider it a royal city and that along with antiSemitism, of course, is the reason.”
There are only 30 stolpersteine in Poland. Elsewhere in Europe there are 70,000. At least 10 more appear daily.
Accusations of anti-Semitism come at an unsettling time for Poland. Its Rightwing government is charged with fostering a xenophobic environment where incidents of anti-Jewish behaviour are either downplayed or ignored.
The Polish Institute of National Remembrance says it is a “national duty” to honour victims of the Holocaust. But in a letter to Ms Lerner it said that “stolpersteine, an idea born in Germany, is controversial” because the plaques would be walked over and would not be a fitting memorial.
Another person struggling to get permission, who wanted to remain anonymous, cited latent anti-Semitism.
And Anne Thomas, who works with the German artist Gunter Demnig, who makes each stolperstein, says: “Poland is very problematic. Many people don’t seem to get permission. You could have them covering the streets of Krakow and Warsaw but there aren’t.”
Alec Bialski’s attempts to lay some in Radom city were rejected, prompting him to speculate that opposition in Poland comes not from any overt antiSemitism but from fears the plaques could trigger claims for compensation.
But Ms Fine dismisses this. “I would like a stone for everyone on that photograph,” she says. “If the whole city shines with brass nothing would make me happier.”