Kazimierz, an area of Kraków wedged between the Old Town and the Vistula River to the south, is where I stayed during my week (11-18 July 2018) in Kraków. Kazimierz is known for its great restaurants and nightlife. It was also the home of Kraków’s very large Jewish community up until World War II. After my sobering visit to Auschwitz on 15 July, I made a point of visiting some significant Jewish sites here and in Podgórze, a residential district across the river from Kazimierz, the following day, for some more uplifting stories from the Holocaust period.
Podgórze is an unexciting suburban-feeling neighborhood for the most part.
But during the World War II German occupation of Kraków, it was where the Nazis created the city’s Jewish ghetto. Even before that time, Podgórze was run-down, and many of the buildings Kraków’s Jewish citizens were forced to move into were unfit for human habitation. As such, very few of the structures from that time are still standing. But a couple of good museums in Podgórze commemorate the Nazi period, and both manage to tell stories from this period of history that tend to affirm one’s faith in humanity.
One is the Pharmacy Under the Eagle. The pharmacy building survived the war and intervening years and has been restored to its 1940s appearance inside and out. The owner of the pharmacy, Polish non-Jew Tadeusz Pankiewicz, and his female employees, at great risk to themselves, helped the Jews of the adjacent ghetto by squirreling away sacred Torah scrolls from synagogues before the Nazis could burn them, providing medicine to the inhabitants of the ghetto, giving Jewish mothers sedatives for their babies so they wouldn’t cry during the family’s attempt to escape from the ghetto, and so on.
The big tourist draw in Podgórze is Oskar Schindler’s former factory, made famous by Steven Spielberg’s 1993 movie Schindler’s List. Schindler’s enamelware factory, which also produced (mostly defective) war-related items for Germany, was located in Podgórze near the Jewish ghetto, which supplied much of the factory’s labor force.
The museum was not at all what I expected. I thought I’d see a reconstruction of the factory as it looked in the 1940s, and displays telling Schindler’s story. But actually very little of the museum features the factory itself, or discusses what Schindler did.
But what Schindler’s Factory mainly does is provide a very detailed local history of the Nazi occupation period (1939-1945) in Kraków. The whole experience was especially vivid for me because I visited after five days in Kraków, and when a museum display discussed a particular incident in a certain street, more often than not I could say to myself, “I know where that street is. That’s where I ate dinner Saturday night” or whatever.
There are old photographs in there showing swastika flags flying over Wawel Hill. The Germans renamed Rynek Glowny “Adolf-Hitler-Platz” in 1940. It’s a recurring aspect of the Polish historical experience that’s very hard for me, as an American, to comprehend. After all, the U.S. hasn’t fought an invader on its own soil for over 200 years! Can you imagine what it would be like if a rival power conquered the U.S.? If the Washington Monument was ringed by, say, Chinese communist flags? Or if Times Square were renamed “Putin Plaza”? That’s what happened to the Poles, and there are still people around today who lived through those events. It’s wild.
I just found all of the detail very intriguing. There were Jews the Nazis recruited to act as policemen and enforcers in the ghetto, for example. Some of them risked their lives by double-crossing the Nazis and helping their fellow Jews. But others, as they say, tried to be more Catholic than the Pope, and brutalized and terrorized the ghetto. There are photos and stories of many of these people in the museum. I didn’t know about any of this. It’s fascinating.
However, I hasten to point out that places like Podgórze and Kazimierz aren’t just museums dedicated to all the awful (and occasionally nice) things that happened to Kraków’s Jews during the War. Kazimierz in particular is a lively, hip, and rapidly gentrifying part of the city. It’s kind of Kraków’s much more affordable equivalent of 14th Street Northwest in Washington, D.C.
Aside from all the eating and drinking I did here, I noted with some satisfaction that, unlike virtually everywhere else I’ve visited that the Nazis got their hands on, there is a kernel of Jewish culture still alive in Kazimierz.
And I would be remiss if I did not point out that historically, the Jewish enclave was in the eastern half of Kazimierz. The Western half was super-Catholic, as is the Polish way.