New book tells of Chicago’s Poles, including — łał! — Jews
Ibelieve I owe an apology to Dominic Pacyga, whose book “American Warsaw: The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of Polish Chicago” was recently published.
Before I even cracked the book open, I asked a question that was also a judgment:
Because if I have learned one thing from reading my mail, it is that being Polish and being Jewish are often viewed as mutually exclusive, at least by the former. Having a grandfather born in Bialystok — definitely in Poland — and other grandparents from Galicia and Belarus, which are sometimes Polish, sometimes not, means nothing.
If Pacyga overlooked Jews entirely, what would I do? Confront the distinguished history professor? I had so enjoyed his “Chicago: A Biography.”
Should I even venture into this realm? Polish Chicagoans can have a — choosing my words carefully — finely calibrated sense of outrage. I’ll never forget their indignation when I came back from Vilnius after interviewing the Lithuanian president. Vilnius being the nation’s capital led me to the ignorant blunder of assuming it is therefore Lithuanian, and not, as I was informed with various degrees of asperity, a Polish city under occupation.
Still, I plunged in.
I’m glad I did. Pacyga starts debunking untruths about Chicago on Page 1: “The city often proclaims itself as Poland’s second city, with only Warsaw containing a larger Polish population ... it is a myth.”
Turns out my question echoes the book’s central premise.
IF I HAVE LEARNED ONE THING FROM READING MY MAIL, IT IS THAT BEING POLISH AND BEING JEWISH ARE OFTEN VIEWED AS MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE, AT LEAST BY THE FORMER.
“Just who is a Pole,” Pacyga asks. “Could a Pole be an Orthodox Christian, a Protestant, a Jew, or an atheist? Was a Pole anyone who believe in a free and independent Poland, even if their first language was Yiddish?”
Schism defines the community. Along class lines: the gentry versus peasants. Along religious lines: Even being Catholic is not enough, and some Poles break away from Rome.
The book is not without flaw. Far too much description of parades, fundraisers and dusty celebrations.
“On Monday, September 26, 1892, the various societies of St. Stanislaus Kostka Parish held a farewell reception for Dr. Dunikowski after his return from a short visit to Wisconsin’s Polish settlements. The festivities began at 1:00 p.m. and consisted of a banquet, a special program by schoolchildren, and a mass meeting in the evening. Long tables arranged with appetizers filled the hall decorated with banners and flowers. Dignitaries in attendance included Smulski, Rev. Barzynski ...”
Meanwhile, Dan Rostenkowski gets short shrift, as does Nelson Algren’s notorious feud with Chicago’s Polish elders.
Pacyga does go into satisfying detail about the 2002 congressional race between Rahm Emanuel and Nancy Kaszak, including Polish National Alliance president Edward Moskal’s anti-Semitic insinuations against Emanuel, slurs another PNA official suggests were “born of frustration with Jews,” who do indeed have the vexing habit of remembering the millions of Polish brethren slaughtered in World War II, both by the Germans and by their neighbors.
The previous sentence might be a crime in Poland. Unlike Germany, Poland just can’t come to grips with an unheroic past. Last year, Poland passed a law making observing Polish complicity in World War II atrocities a crime. Hoots of international derision caused them to claw back the three-year prison sentence. But the law remains.
As does the truth: Many Poles didn’t need Nazis to teach them how to hate Jews.
“A Jew is not allowed to go out in the street at night, because his life is at risk,” Zalman Bramson wrote to his brother — my grandfather — in Yiddish in 1937. “Here a Jew’s life is worthless . ... ” He writes of being set upon by thugs. “We found our legs and ran away. But another young man fell into their hands, they caught him and gave him a terrible beating ... the young Jewish boy was, poor thing, lying in a pool of blood. Such scenes as this are not at all uncommon in Bialystok.”
That was 1937. The good news is things are better — shameful laws notwithstanding. Jewish life exists in Poland — over the summer, news of a Jewish Cultural Festival in Krakow sounded so enticing I had a previously unimaginable thought: “I should visit Poland.”
Self-glorification comes from lack of confidence. Hopefully, works like “American Warsaw” are bracing enough that Poles might someday view their history in its entirety and not only selected shiny surfaces that reflect back a soothingly admirable image.