"Żegota" (1942 – 1945)

27 Września 2019

"Without a precise address, we searched for the girl until late at night. And when we found her, he stroked the child's head until she finally cuddled up to him. And she said, 'I don't want to be here, take me with you.'" They—those who helped the child—overcame their own weaknesses: fear and doubt in the sense of such actions. They proved that in an era of ubiquitous German terror and Polish helplessness, one could be capable of not passive, but active resistance. This "operation" was led by Julian Grobelny, codename "Trojan ," and accompanied by Irena Sendler, codename "Jolanta ." They acted on behalf of the Council for Aid to Jews, "Żegota." They rescued the girl from the ruins of the ghetto. It was as if they had given her a second life.

Frame two. The dramatic time of farewell was approaching. Children, sometimes taken from their parents by force, screamed in fear: "I hate you! How could you take me away from them?" Jadwiga Piotrowska recalled one such situation . "I want to die with them!" Before the "Żegota" people finally managed to take the child and lead him out of the ghetto, the family asked one last, crucial, fundamental question – about the success of the operation. Sendler then replied: "We can't give you any guarantees. I don't even know if I and the child will leave the ghetto safely." And this was only the beginning of a long road leading to an unpredictable finale: death or life.

Scene three. Children needed shelter. Grobelny convinced Irena Staśkowa to participate in "Żegota's" aid operations. She said, "My home was a quarantine. I always had several people." Aware of the dangers if her hiding place were revealed, she was equally committed to her role once she accepted it. She followed a simple principle: "For one Jew, a head, and for several Jews, the same head, so it's worth hiding several." The apartments of trustworthy Poles, to whom one could entrust other people's—Jewish—lives, served as a refuge. These were temporary hiding places. They were called "distributive emergency care centers." In the initial period of "Żegota's" operations, there were four such places, where children received first aid and essential care, primarily. By the turn of 1942 and 1943, their number had increased to ten. Children were given names and surnames, and new biographies were created to ensure—if such a definition existed during the Nazi occupation—maximum safety. Those in their care were given "the most tender care": "They tried to calm them down," Irena Sendler said, "to ease the pain of separation from their loved ones." They were introduced, step by step, to a world unfamiliar to them as a result of the war. To a new life.

Frame four. "Żegota" people. Irena Schultz led children through the underground corridors of the Municipal Courts building, which had two entrances: one from the ghetto on Leszno Street and the other from Biała Street on the so-called Aryan side. Due to its location, the "Muranów" tram depot on Sierakowska Street served a similar function. A truck driver from the Warsaw City Council's Department of Welfare and Health passed through the ghetto daily. Informed by Irena Sendler, he collaborated with "Żegota." He transported children in a box, in bags, among the waste lying "in the back of the truck." A dog also participated in these operations. Just in case. If a child cried, the driver was to step on the dog's paw. The animal's barking served to distract the Germans guarding the exit. Magda Rusinek served as a teacher in the "emergency care" unit. She taught Jewish children Catholic prayers: "I woke them in the middle of the night and made them recite the prayer so they knew it well enough to recite it in their sleep. And I taught them how to behave in church." Piotrowska sought and found places for the youngest in convents, orphanages, and private families. Families tried to give children whose "fate had destined them to experience hell in life" a sense of security: "From a fear-stricken ghetto child, a mother's caressed heart melted, and until recently, terrified eyes began to look at the world differently." Despite everything, the caregivers and their charges lived.

Personnel five. Everyone needed help, including adults – aware of the risks associated with being of inappropriate Jewish nationality or descent. "Żegota" and the ŻOB collaborated in the process of getting them out of the ghetto. The most important factors were the safe transmission of information, contacts with trusted people, and reliable locations. "Jews staying in the so-called Aryan area," recalled Ferdynand Arczyński, codename "Marek," "was only possible on the condition that they passed as non-Jews." Simultaneously, new CVs were being "created" for those about to leave the ghetto, along with the appropriate documentation necessary to legalize their stay on the "Aryan side." The printing house, where Janina Raabe-Wąsowiczów, codename "Ewa," worked, produced the necessary paperwork : "At the beginning of 1943, our printing house began its continuous and uninterrupted operation." Of the approximately 50 documents produced there, the majority (around 80 percent) were intended for Jews. Polish engravers crafted the seals—based on photographed designs. Others specialized in handwriting documents. Finally, the final participants in the legalization process registered those in their care at registration offices, employment centers, and government offices. The groundwork was ready.

Frame six. The rest of the actions were in the hands of the Jews. All that was left was to undergo the so-called quarantine: "They stayed there until they became accustomed to themselves. Surprisingly, such a 'ski' master adapted to his new role, became a new person, with a new life story," wrote Staśkowa, who was at the very center of the RPŻ "Żegota" movement's activities during the war. "Did he play?" she asked. "I have the impression that it was eating into his consciousness. In the deepest recesses of his existence, he was renouncing his name. It was no longer a game." This was reality. All that remained was to blend in: "All people had one thing in common: a fanatical desire to live. To live a month, a week, a day, but to live! To live! To live!"

Frame after frame… Snippets, fragments, cuttings. Like a film. A unique work of art created in German-occupied Europe. Its creators were not a hermetically sealed group of madmen. Quite the opposite. They were people of good will, ready to selflessly offer aid to the persecuted. Nowhere—literally—was civil courage summoned to such a degree and on such a scale as on Polish soil. This was probably because they not only witnessed the crimes committed against their fellow citizens—Polish Jews—but above all, were aware of this tragedy. They came—recalled Władysław Bartoszewski , a "Żegota" activist—from all social groups: the intelligentsia and members of the liberal professions, officials, workers and peasants, Catholic and Protestant clergy, religious orders. They were young people and professors, believers and non-believers, representing circles openly supporting Jewish assimilation, sometimes indifferent to Jews. There were also times, during the interwar period, when they were more or less hostile towards the Jewish community. Their actions were not based on their past, political agendas, or ideology. What mattered was the help they provided. This was precisely what the people of "Żegota" provided.

In February 1942, the Jewish Department, headed by lawyer Henryk Woliński , was established within the Bureau of Information and Propaganda of the Main Committee of the Union of Armed Struggle – Home Army. Until at least mid-2042, the Department's activities were limited solely to providing the Polish Government in London with sporadic information about the situation of Jews under German occupation. It was not until the so-called Grossaktion (mass crimes committed by the Germans against the Jewish population in the summer of 1942) that the underground press began to publish information about the Holocaust. The most important was Zofia Kossak-Szczucka 's "Protest" from August 11, 1942. In it, she openly wrote: "Silence can no longer be tolerated. Whatever its motives, it is despicable. We cannot remain passive in the face of crime. Whoever remains silent in the face of murder becomes an accomplice to the murderer. We have no power to actively prevent German murders, we can do nothing, we can save no one – but we protest from the depths of our hearts filled with pity, indignation, and horror. Whoever does not support this protest with us is not a Catholic." This "Protest" fulfilled a dual function: in addition to opposing the crimes committed by the occupier, it also called for a change in the attitude of the vast majority of Polish society – from passive witnesses to the Holocaust to active participants in activities aimed at helping the victims of the tragedy.

The path from the educational nature of the quoted words of the Polish underground to active participation in aid operations was short. While before the Grossaktion, Jews in hiding had been supported by the Bund (and much later, from November 1942, also by Zionist organizations operating under the name of the Jewish National Union) and some Poles (individually, usually supporting assimilated Jews, friends, acquaintances, and neighbors), the dynamics of events—the Germans' shift in existing methods and methods, from crimes perpetrated against individuals to the mass, factory-scale murder of civilians—necessitated the creation of institutionalized aid. By mid-September 1942, it was known that the first liquidation of the Warsaw Ghetto was drawing to a close. Along with this, there was a growing awareness of its consequences—the murder of several hundred thousand Jews, most of them Polish. And the knowledge that at least some, even a handful, had managed to survive. This likely fueled the conviction that an organization needed to unite the majority of the political and social movements of the Polish underground. It was then that the Civil Resistance Leadership openly protested against the Holocaust. At the same time, a statement appeared in "Rzeczypospolita Polska"—the official press organ of the Government Delegation for Poland—that: "As a result of the initiative of a number of social organizations from Catholic and democratic circles, a Social Aid Commission is being established for the Jewish population affected by the consequences of the brutal persecution of Jews by the Germans. The Commission will strive, to the best of its ability and within the means and possibilities that must be taken into account in the occupational conditions of the country, to provide assistance to the victims of Nazi violence." Two weeks later—on September 27—as a result of cooperation between underground organizations, the Social Aid Committee for the Jewish Population was established, also known as the Provisional Committee for Aid to Jews, and known clandestinely as the Konrad Żegota Committee. Based on this organization, in early December 1942, the Government Delegation for Poland established the Council for Aid to Jews "Żegota." Its branches, apart from Warsaw, existed in Krakow, Brest and Lviv, among others.

Although the RPŻ included representatives of various Polish and Jewish socio-political organizations, their involvement was certainly not determined by ideology or political agendas. While free will or a sense of solidarity with wronged fellow citizens could influence the decision to provide aid, the availability of tangible, material support was determined by the availability of financial resources. These funds were primarily provided by the Government in Exile, Jewish organizations (e.g., Joint), and private individuals. Żegota's activities were organized into Departments: Housing (headed by Emilia Hiżowa ), Local ( Stefan Sendłak ), Children's ( Aleksandra Dargielowa , and later Irena Sendler), and Medical ( Ludwik Rostkowski ). From the moment it was established, the Council's most important tasks included aiding Jews in hiding, finding apartments for hiding, caring for children, providing false "Aryan" documents, distributing benefits and food, organizing medical care, and, whenever possible, providing assistance to Jews in labor camps. Furthermore, "Żegota" members regularly sent "evidence" of the Holocaust perpetrated against the Jewish population in occupied Poland to the London Government. They sought to compel the Home Army Headquarters to combat degenerate Poles – informers and blackmailers: "People were diverse, good and bad, outstanding and bland," recalled Tadeusz Rek, codename "Adam Cichy." "As everywhere, as always, alongside beautiful, noble, and selfless people, there was no shortage of blandness, nothingness, and even baseness." Simultaneously, "Żegota" conducted educational campaigns to sensitize Polish society to the tragic situation of Jews.

Poles, therefore, brought aid to Jews. Were their attitudes and actions determined by objective factors, such as German cruelty, or by a subjective factor, such as Poles' attitudes toward Jews? Regardless of the answer to this question, it will likely never be possible to determine the number of Jews rescued, or indeed the number of Poles who participated in such activities.

Estimates suggest that approximately 50 Jews benefited from the assistance of the Polish-Jewish Council for Aid to Jews, "Żegota." The question remains: is this a lot or a little? One thing is certain: "Żegota" was unmatched in providing aid. Without it, the chances of saving lives and surviving equally were slim, especially for the Jewish population.