Abstract

This article discusses the cultural and ideological representation of the Jewish Polish poet Władysław Szlengel in historical and historiographic research. The author maintains that while many researchers have described Szlengel as universal, cosmopolitan, sympathetic to assimilation, with socialist leanings, or, at least, apolitical or indifferent toward the national issue, the “Warsaw Ghetto poet” in fact had firm Zionist-Revisionist leanings before the war, and was connected to the Betar-founded1 Jewish Military Union (Żydowski Związek Wojskowy, ŻZW) underground during the war and Warsaw Ghetto uprising. Thus, the author presents evidence and quotations previously unexplored in the field, which shed new light on the life and works of Szlengel.

Your whisper, my brother, is louder

Than the roar of the English lion.2

Introduction

By analyzing testimonies and literary texts, I aim to prove Władysław Szlengel’s ideological affinity to Zionism,3 particularly its Revisionist4 movement, and challenge current scholarship, which portrays him as assimilationist, socialist, or apolitical (see figure 1). I will present first-person testimonies describing Szlengel’s connections with Revisionist entities and his part in the Jewish resistance in the Warsaw Ghetto. One example is the testimony of Ziuta Hartman,5 a Revisionist underground (ŻZW)6 combatant7 who, according to Szlengel, played a major part in a fundraiser organized by the ŻZW prior to the last Passover in the Ghetto. In addition, character testimonies connect Szlengel to acts of bravery, such as the testimony of Menahem Mendel Lifshitz, a combatant of the Armia Krajowa (Homeland Army), the national Polish underground.8 Lifshitz testified that Szlengel remained in the Warsaw Ghetto even though he could have found refuge in a safe house on the Aryan side.

Szlengel’s best-known photo with a handwritten dedication to his school friend, which reads: “To Zdz Pindorski, my favorite classmate” (September 11, 1939). Courtesy of the Jewish Historical Institute Warsaw, ZIH_B_574-1.
Figure 1.

Szlengel’s best-known photo with a handwritten dedication to his school friend, which reads: “To Zdz Pindorski, my favorite classmate” (September 11, 1939). Courtesy of the Jewish Historical Institute Warsaw, ZIH_B_574-1.

Szlengel’s literary contributions, notably his poetry, are almost all that remain of his writings and communications. By analyzing a previously underresearched selection of his poetic texts, I reconstruct his general ideological thoughts and more specifically uncover evidence of his nationalist views. Specifically, I will analyze four poems: “To General Haining,”9 “The Song of a Hero,”10 “Ghosts at Evian,”11 and “The Arab Ultimatum.”12

Within the wider field, Szlengel is arguably representative of the biases in the history of the Warsaw Ghetto, in that scholars—until a recent resurgence of interest in the last two decades—have largely ignored or underresearched the ŻZW, despite its great significance in the uprising. This article contributes to new scholarship that attempts to reexamine the ŻZW and its personalities to repair this lacuna in the historical narrative.13

Władysław Szlengel: Biography and family

Szlengel was born in Warsaw in 1912 where he spent his childhood.14 His father, Maurycy, was an artist, who created theatrical scenery.15 A number of researchers16 have concluded that the Szlengel family members were assimilated, secular Jews, given the nature of his father’s work, the family members’ ongoing use of non-Hebrew names, the fact that Szlengel was sent to an economics and trade school17 with secular Jewish characteristics, and that photographs of Szlengel show that he dressed according to the style of the Polish urban-bourgeois class.18 The Szlengel family, however, was neither a fully assimilated family nor one disconnected from its Jewishness, as evidenced by the fact that his father created scenery specifically for the Yiddish theater,19 and that the announcements of his parents’ deaths20 were published in the Zionist Jewish newspaper, Nasz Przegląd,21 and Yiddish press.22

Student and poet

Szlengel spent his childhood in Warsaw. In 1930, Szlengel finished school and apparently chose not to continue his academic studies (see figures 2 and 3).23 In the decade prior to World War II, when in his twenties, Szlengel gained fame both within the Jewish community and outside as a Polish-language playwright, screenwriter, and lyricist.24 His work was notable for being entertaining and lively, with biting sarcasm and some cynicism. Many of his works were set to music, recorded, and became dance songs.

Classroom photograph of students of the trade school in Warsaw. Szlengel is seated in the first row, first to the left (circa 1920s). Courtesy of the Jewish Historical Institute in Warsaw, ZIH_B_5771.
Figure 2.

Classroom photograph of students of the trade school in Warsaw. Szlengel is seated in the first row, first to the left (circa 1920s). Courtesy of the Jewish Historical Institute in Warsaw, ZIH_B_5771.

Class photograph of the students of the trade school in Warsaw. Szlengel is seated on the ground, to the left, in the first row, with his arms and legs crossed (circa 1920s). Courtesy of the Jewish Historical Institute Warsaw, ZIH_B_576-1.
Figure 3.

Class photograph of the students of the trade school in Warsaw. Szlengel is seated on the ground, to the left, in the first row, with his arms and legs crossed (circa 1920s). Courtesy of the Jewish Historical Institute Warsaw, ZIH_B_576-1.

Apart from his work as a lyricist, Szlengel also wrote artistic poetry on political, national, and social topics. Szlengel published his poems only in Polish. When he completed his studies in 1930, he began to publish his first socially inspired poetry25 in Nasz Przegląd, a newspaper that would be the main (although not sole)26 platform in which Szlengel published. Overtime, his poetry would adopt a conspicuously Zionist dimension.

Until the outbreak of war in September 1939, Szlengel’s status was that of a popular poet, lyricist, and playwright who was in demand both among Polish Jewry and Polish society in general.27 Though he married before the war, there is little to no information about his wife, not even her name.28

Activity during World War II and the Warsaw Ghetto uprising

According to Szlengel’s autobiographical poetry,29 he participated in the defense of Warsaw against the Nazi invasion. Afterward, Szlengel and his wife, like hundreds of thousands of other civilians,30 left the city and headed eastward.31 They reached Soviet-occupied Bialystok, where Szlengel managed the Miniature Theater,32 a theater troupe that performed in the Soviet-occupied territories. After some time he and his wife moved to Lvov.

We learn from the testimony of Menahem Mendel Lifshitz that in Lvov, following its takeover by Nazi forces on June 30, 1941, Szlengel was caught and imprisoned in the Nazi labor camp Janowska.33 Later he was released with the help of Polish acquaintances, who hid him and his wife in Lvov.34 According to Lifshitz, in the second half of January 1942, these acquaintances and Lifshitz (who smuggled Szlengel and his wife onto a train), helped the couple return to Warsaw.35 The couple managed to return to the family’s apartment at 14 Waliców Street in the Ghetto.36

In the Ghetto, Szlengel continued his artistic activities. He led the popular avant-garde performance The Living Newspaper37 at the Sztuka (Arts) Club at 2 Leszno Street, and appeared together with other Jewish artists. His poems were widely publicized in the Ghetto, and he was known as the “Warsaw Ghetto poet.”38

Emanuel Ringelblum noted in his review of writers in the Ghetto that Szlengel was a member of the Jewish police, but resigned during the “Great Action” of July 1942 in which the Jewish police took an active part:

The poem “Farewell to three hats” describes the farewell of the young poet [Szlengel] to his three hats—the student’s cap, the soldier’s beret and the policeman’s hat. He … describes the “Aktion” of the elimination of the Jews of Warsaw, in which, as a policeman, he was forced to participate. The poet is unable to reconcile himself to assisting the Germans in the act of annihilation and bids farewell to the policeman’s hat. However, there were few such policemen.39

It is unclear whether Ringelblum bases this fact on the poem alone or on other sources. After the “Great Aktion,” like all Jews in the Ghetto who were not members of the Judenrat or the Jewish police, Szlengel had to obtain a workshop certificate to be considered an essential worker and avoid deportation or death. He acquired a worker certificate for the Brushmakers’ workshop and moved there together with his wife, who was categorized as “wild”—or in the Ghetto without permission (e.g., a worker’s certificate, and therefore was forbidden to live in the Ghetto)—to a house at 34 Świętojerska Street40 inside the Ghetto.41 From this apartment, and while working in the factory, Szlengel continued to write what he called “document poems,” poems that were duplicated on a copying machine and distributed widely in the Ghetto.42 His poems at that time testify to his support of the Jewish underground and armed Jewish resistance.43

In the uprising of April 1943, Szlengel found refuge in the bunker of Shimon (Szymek) Katz, who headed an armed underground group.44 The bunker was at 36 Świętojerska Street, a building adjacent to Szlengel’s residence, where a group of ŻZW combatants from the Brushmakers were also located. On May 8, 1943, during the suppression of the uprising by the Germans, the bunker at 36 Świętojerska Street was discovered.45 Apart from Avraham Neiberg’s indirect testimony on the death of the poet and his wife on this day, there is no first-person testimony about the circumstances of his death.

Portrayal of Szlengel in research

In Poland, several articles have appeared over the years regarding Szlengel’s poems. These articles examine his poems on the Holocaust, which he wrote from the Ghetto as a poetic record of historical events, and as an attempt to follow the Jewish consciousness during the extermination.46 In Israel, the only academic article dedicated to Szlengel is Ruth Shenfeld’s “Władysław Szlengel veshirato begeto varsha” (Władysław Szlengel and his poetry in the Warsaw Ghetto, 1987). In this article, Shenfeld analyzes Szlengel’s work before the Holocaust, describing it as socially sensitive, and notes his use of “Yiddishisms” (i.e., motifs from Yiddish folklore).47 Shenfeld notes, however, that though, “[Szlengel] represented a large part of the Jewish intelligentsia in Poland, which did not completely assimilate and wanted to retain its national uniqueness and its affinity to the Jewish public and its affairs, [they did so] without … deep involvement in specific Jewish culture, in Yiddish or Hebrew.”48

Shenfeld further analyzes Szlengel’s poem “Sukkot.”49 This poem, however, seemingly contradicts her statements about the poet’s lack of involvement in Jewish culture, as in this poem he proves his knowledge of classic Jewish subjects and his personal affinity to them. Shenfeld sums up her discussion of the poem as follows:

The poem ends with an almost Zionist declaration. In the future, when he returns to his home (i.e., the land of Israel), the poet will be able to celebrate the Sukkot holiday with true joy and remember the days of wandering in foreign countries: “But today? … Sir, sitting in sukkot is unsafe/it is my lot daily.”50

It is unclear why Shenfeld describes Szlengel as only “almost Zionist” and not definitely Zionist. It is true that Szlengel belonged to the Jewish Enlightenment in Poland (Haskalah), but this group was not exclusive to socialists or assimilated Jews. Rather, this group also incorporated national or national-liberal Jews, including members of the Revisionist movement. Arguably, Szlengel belonged to this latter movement, as will become clear later in this article.

Regarding the quality of Szlengel’s poems, Shenfeld says that “he was not a great or very original poet.”51 In this way, Shenfeld concurs with Emanuel Ringelblum, who maintained in his opinion that “Their [his poems’] artistic level was not of the highest [quality].”52 Similarly, Israel Gutman belittles the artistry of Szlengel’s prewar poetry, but goes further than Ringelblum by also diminishing its impact during the war: “The Polish Jewish poet Władysław Szlengel, who previously wrote lyrics of minor value, wrote a few poems of suffering and rage during his time in the Ghetto.”53 By comparison, Havi Dreifuss does not criticize the quality of Szlengel’s writing or belittle his artistic importance or the extent of his writing. Like Shenfeld, however, she also distances Szlengel from Zionist ideology, and describes Szlengel’s social circle as far from politics and nationalism.54 Dreifuss’s approach is similar to that of Magdalena Stanczuk, who wrote a comprehensive account of the poet, “Władysław Szlengel—an unknown poet,” and defines Szlengel as “a combatant poet who fought with his pen,” but says that he was killed “without a gun in his hand, not in the ranks of the ŻZW or the ŻOB.”55

On the other hand, it is clear that Samuel D. Kassow did not necessarily see Szlengel as someone totally disconnected from politics, national issues, and Jewish pride. He ascribes Szlengel to the Jewish Polish intelligentsia, which adopted Polish culture, but did not assimilate and was “torn between genuine Jewish pride and love for Poland, which never truly accepted them.”56 Szlengel was not disconnected from Jewish religious, cultural, national, political, party, or underground affiliations, as most researchers assert, as will become clear through the evidence below.

Szlengel and Revisionism: prewar ideological connections

Applying a historical and literary analysis, this section will examine Szlengel’s national stance before the outbreak of war. This interdisciplinary approach will not include his significant and definitively nationalist poems, which Shenfeld has already analyzed (“Sukkot,” “Nihil novi,” “Airplane,” etc.),57 but will briefly review some of his previously overlooked nationalist poems from the prewar period, which relate to three historical events in that period: the Shlomo Ben-Yosef affair, the Evian Conference, and the Arab ultimatum.

The Shlomo Ben-Yosef affair

Szlengel’s attitude to the Shlomo Ben-Yosef affair is the strongest evidence of his support not only for a Jewish national approach, but also for the Revisionist maximalist worldview.

On April 21, 1938, Shlomo Ben-Yosef, an Etzel58 activist from the Rosh Pina Betar group, and two other members of the underground, Avraham Shein and Shalom Zurabin, threw a hand grenade at an Arab bus on the Rosh Pina-Safed road. The three acted on their own initiative and in opposition to the movement’s policy and the instructions of their direct commanders. It was retribution for one group member’s death, David Ben-Gaon, who was murdered with several other Jews during the 1936–1939 Arab revolt. The trio’s attack failed as the grenade they threw did not explode or cause any damage.

They were tried: Zurabin was declared insane, and Shein and Ben-Yosef were sentenced to death. Shein’s punishment, however, was commuted to imprisonment due to his young age. On June 29, 1938, Ben-Yosef was hanged and became the “first martyr” of the Jewish underground movement. His name became a highly loaded symbol among Zionist Jewish youth in Palestine and worldwide during that period.59 Before his sentence, the leadership of the Yishuv tried unsuccessfully to avert the decree, as will be seen below.

Immediately after the sentence was pronounced, Szlengel published his poem “To General Haining.”60 General Robert Hadden Haining, who at the time was the commander of the British forces in Palestine, had been sent there in order to overcome the Arab revolt and the general unrest that followed. Haining signed Ben-Yosef’s sentence. Nasz Przegląd published Szlengel’s poem on June 26, 1938. In it Szlengel addresses Haining directly and protests vigorously against the sentence, while calling Ben-Yosef “my brother” and purposefully increasing the font size to emphasize his call to Haining, to reflect his increasing cry that seeks to tear down Haining’s indifference. Below are selected excerpts from the poem:

To General Haining
General!
Twenty-two years!!!61
There, behind a grand table,
With one stroke of your pen,
You wound around my brother’s neck,
A knotted rope of sins …
My brother———
He is twenty-two years old …
Jews from throughout the world
Are shocked. Disturbed.
This rope, wrings their hearts
A cry is torn from their breast.
General!
When you were twenty-two
You had no-one to rebel against
Or against whom to raise your fists
General! You were lucky,
You could serve your homeland!
This death will not set an example
No man’s hand will tremble———
The loop of the rope will fall on the hearts———
The shadow of the gallows will fall on the eyes———
And we will question the world’s conscience.

The poem shows that Szlengel deeply identified with Shlomo Ben-Yosef, while expressing his support for the Jewish rebellion and opposition to the rule of the Mandate. He addresses the British general directly: “You had no-one to rebel against.” Through these words, Szlengel expresses what he believes was the British’s and the world’s basic lack of understanding of the problems that Jews faced, and the former’s corrosive attitude toward Jews. As in the proverb “the well-fed does not understand the hungry,” Szlengel explains that as a citizen of a sovereign nation, the general is unable to understand the rebellious Jewish soul, which lacks a national home. He sees Ben-Yosef’s hanging as a desperate attempt to frighten and deter the Jewish public from fighting for a nation, without understanding the extent of their despair. He ends his poem with the promise: “This death will not set an example; no man’s hand will tremble”—a declaration that the execution will not discourage the rebels. This poem is significant because it is indicative of Szlengel’s worldview, which rejects policies that restrain Zionism as the policy of the Haganah (mainstream Zionist military organization), and supports the Jewish rebellion in Mandate Palestine.

On July 1, 1938, two days after Ben-Yosef’s execution, Szlengel published another poem about Ben-Yosef, “A Song of a Hero” (see figure 4). It appeared in two newspapers simultaneously, Nasz Przegląd and Tygodnik Żydowski, a Zionist weekly in Polish. The poem shows Szlengel’s absolute support for Ben-Yosef and his actions. This support is in line with Revisionist views, particularly the maximalist movement. Excerpts from the poem read:

We will smash every prohibition and chain,62
It will come from our hands.
Your whisper, my brother, is louder
Than the roar of the English lion.
The song of the hero will be revealed to the world,
the tale of heroism will spring forth;
In the dark of a quiet evening
The song of Ben Yosef will slip out—the song of heroism.
In the holy grave of Rosh Pina.
For a nation proud of its son,
Whose blood is its sacrifice.
The day of its victory will yet come, a day of greatness.

The cover of the newspaper Jüdisches Volksblatt (Bielsko-Biała), July 1 1938, dedicated to the memory of Shlomo ben Yosef, who was hanged by the authorities of the British Mandate. The newspaper that was published two days after the hanging, an excerpt from the poem “The Hero Song” composed by Szlengel in memory of Ben Yosef.
Figure 4.

The cover of the newspaper Jüdisches Volksblatt (Bielsko-Biała), July 1 1938, dedicated to the memory of Shlomo ben Yosef, who was hanged by the authorities of the British Mandate. The newspaper that was published two days after the hanging, an excerpt from the poem “The Hero Song” composed by Szlengel in memory of Ben Yosef.

When Szlengel writes, “Your whisper, my brother, is louder, than the roar of the English lion,” he is likely alluding to the Israeli Revisionists’ underground, and their fight against British Mandate rule. During this period, the mainstream leadership of the Jewish community in the Land of Israel claimed that it was necessary to cooperate with the British. Szlengel, in this poem, expresses himself directly and firmly against this approach. Through the line “In the holy grave of Rosh Pina” (one of the first Jewish settlements, located in the north of Israel), Szlengel uses religious and nationalist imagery to venerate this act of rebellion, unequivocally showing that he viewed Ben-Yosef’s act of militant activism as supremely important, and revealing his familiarity with Revisionist terminology.63 That terminology frames Jewish national goals in Israel as a genuinely sacred religious endeavor. Furthermore, in 1939, Shlomo Skolsky, a senior Revisionist writer, expressed sentiments similar to Szlengel’s on the same subject—Ben-Yosef’s tomb in Rosh Pina—thus demonstrating shared ideological beliefs:

And at midnight
A small quiet voice will tremble:
“The peak of the rock cannot be conquered—
If there is no grave on its slope!”64

Arguably, it is significant that Szlengel chose to devote two poems to Ben-Yosef, and even referred to him as “my brother.” Given the tumultuous Arab revolt in Palestine, Szlengel could have focused on other events, no less tragic—during the revolt over five hundred Jews were killed, including well-known figures, such as the watchman Alexander Zaid, who was murdered on July 11, 1938. Therefore, Szlengel’s choice to focus on the controversial figure Ben-Yosef, who was a maximalist Revisionist icon, is likely deliberate. Through the following quotations, I will connect the attitudes of senior figures in the Zionist leadership to this incident, in order to understand the ideological stance of the Revisionist movement, toward this affair.

On July 10, 1938, after Ben-Yosef was executed, a discussion on the issue of restraint took place in London between Zeev Jabotinsky, the head of Betar and Etzel, and Eliyahu Golomb, one of the heads of the Haganah. Golomb strongly opposed glorifying Ben-Yosef’s name, saying to Jabotinsky:

But all this [i.e., the attempt of the Zionist leadership to save Ben-Yosef from death sentence] was also because one should not relate to a member of the Jewish community that fights against terror in the same way as a member of a community that supports terror [e.g. the Arabs] and also for various political reasons. However, I do not think that veneration of Ben-Yosef is justified.65

Similar opinions had also been voiced previously by David Ben Gurion who was openly disgusted by Ben-Yosef’s actions:

I am capable of being shocked by the existence of hanging in the world, but I am not shocked precisely by the hanging of a Jew in Palestine. I am ashamed of the act that caused the hanging.66

In contrast, Jabotinsky withdrew his initial opposition to the act. In an unusual step, he retroactively ordered Ben-Yosef’s act, and sent a letter of condolence to the members of Betar in Rosh Pina, in which he stated his aspiration to venerate Ben-Yosef. He, like Szlengel, drew upon religious imagery: “We will make a tower from his gallows, a temple from his grave, a civil religion from his memory.”67

From this we learn that despite the attempts of the Yishuv’s leadership to annul Ben-Yosef’s death sentence, they did not see fit to glorify his name or actions, in contrast to the leadership of the Revisionist movement. It seems therefore that Szlengel supported Ben-Yosef’s actions, and unlike Jabotinsky he praised him from the beginning, describing the Jewish nation as “[a] nation that is proud of its son.” This pro-national activist reaction mirrors the maximalist wing of Revisionist Zionism, who later withdrew from the Etzel and founded the Lehi organization,68 like Avraham “Yair” Stern and his friends.

Additionally Szlengel’s reaction to the Evian Conference and the Arab ultimatum proves his consistency and support for the pro-national Zionist, and arguably the Revisionist, viewpoints.

The Evian Conference

On July 8, 1938, following the Evian Conference,69 Szlengel published “Ghosts in Evian” in Nasz Przegląd. In this poem, he fiercely attacks the hypocrisy of the nations of the world, which, in his opinion, met solely to clear their consciences, and offer empty humanitarian gestures for refugees from the Nazi regime.

Ghosts in Evian70
Sitting around,
Delegations of gentlemen …
With notebooks, with pens, leisurely …
In the hall ghosts appear …
They enter beaten, poisoned
See the masses with your heart!
These ghosts ask to return to life!

Szlengel’s poem “Ghosts in Evian” delivers a scathing critique of the representatives at the Évian Conference and their indifference to the plight of Jewish refugees by evoking the spirit of Émile Zola’s decrying of the Dreyfus Affair, “J’accuse” (I accuse). By contrasting the tranquil administrative proceedings of the conference with the looming brutality of Nazi persecution, Szlengel exposes the stark contrast between the delegates’ inaction and the impending catastrophe faced by Europe’s Jewry. He condemns the moral failings of these nations and compels the reader to confront the bitter and painful reality of the mass persecution of the Jews.

A month after the publication of this poem, in September 1938, representatives at the Betar movement’s third international conference declared their support of military activism and Zionism, citing too their loss of trust in the world’s conscience. A young, promising Betar member named Menachem Begin, soon to be appointed Commissioner of Betar Poland, steered the movement into a more proactive direction: “The world’s conscience has stopped reacting…. The League of Nations has lost its value…. The “partner” [UK] sends the best of our people to the gallows and to prison [the hanging of Shlomo Ben-Yosef].”71

Haaretz newspaper, for example, which at that time represented a centralist Zionist approach, had placed hope in the Evian Conference, arguing that it, “has a great moral value. The opening session itself appeared as a strong demonstration against persecution in different countries.”72 When the conference ended, Haaretz summarized it positively reporting that “[p]ublic opinion and the general press note with satisfaction the decision that was taken at Evian: to make an effort to settle the refugees from Germany and Austria and those who have not yet left the Nazi hell.”73

Jabotinsky, on the other hand, as head of the New Zionist Organization,74 sent a letter to the members of the British parliament in which he expressed his dissatisfaction with the conference’s conclusions. He argued that the fact that the Jewish refugees were not allowed to immigrate to Palestine will “[p]rove fatal to all such schemes, will vitiate them from the beginning, and will result—probably almost at once—in provoking new catastrophes in areas holding six or seven times more Jews than Germany and Austria together.”75 Indeed, like Jabotinsky, as a reaction to the conference’s decisions, Szlengel published his poem “The Jungle Books”76 in which he satirizes the notion of resettling Jewish refugees in Africa, a proposal that emerged in the conference. Through vivid imagery, Szlengel juxtaposes the traditional Jewish customs and practices of the shtetl with what he believed were the unfamiliar and often harsh realities of the African landscape. Though arguably a reductive portrayal of the continent, his depiction of Jews hanging a Mezuzah on a cactus and lighting Shabbat candles in straw huts highlights the cultural and environmental incongruities of such a resettlement plan.

The following section will explore Szlengel’s ability to identify with and advocate for not only European Jews but even Eastern Jews in Islamic countries.

The Arab ultimatum

In October 1938, in the middle of the Arab revolt, Nabi el Azme, an Arab nationalist and the head of the Arab Committee for the Defense of Palestine in Damascus—with the encouragement of the Mufti of Jerusalem, Haj Amin al-Husseini, who was in Damascus at the time—sent Chaim Weizmann, the chairman of the Jewish Agency, a warning.77 Nabi el Azme stated that if unrestricted Jewish immigration to Palestine continued and if Jews did not remain a minority in the land, Arab countries would attack their Jewish communities.78

The Jewish Agency’s official response: “The threat of bloodshed will not frighten us. Our people derive their strength from persecution and slaughter.”79 Similarly, Davar—the newspaper of the Jewish workers of Palestine and the organ of the General Labor Federation —published the reaction of the orientalist Menahem Kapeliuk, which included turning a cold shoulder to the Jews of the Muslim countries, while accusing them of betraying Zionism and expressing a willingness to sacrifice them on the altar of Zionism:

I am sure that none of us will be deterred by this outstanding threat of a general massacre of all the Jews who live in Arab countries, although the heart of every Jew will certainly tremble for the fate of these wretched people, who have already lied in their souls by placing a barrier between them and Zionism, and by financially supporting the Arab movement against Zionism, and nevertheless have not yet found favor in the eyes of our enemy, and moreover the sharp sword has been lifted above their necks. Our heart is with these wretched people, but we are sure that they themselves will not agree to sacrifice the entire nation at the price of their safety.80

On October 15, 1938, just prior to the publication of Kapeliuk’s reaction, Szlengel published his poem “The Arab Ultimatum”81 in Nasz Przegląd. In it he expresses his concern and strong support for Jews in Muslim countries, who faced the threat of pan-Arab violence during the Arab uprising. Szlengel’s reaction to the Arab ultimatum completely differs from that of Kapeliuk. Defending Jews in Muslim countries, Szlengel expresses a connection and affinity with these communities. Below are the main points of the poem’s message:

A red dawn above Jerusalem
This is a burning cry to the world.
This cry awakes us in the throes of an urban night
Clutches our neck, calls on us to act….
And we have no weapons or power
The cry we spread at the feet of London.

In this poem Szlengel laments the fact that Jews lack arms and thus lack the ability to aid their brethren in distress. Later in the poem he again declares the uselessness of diplomacy and his lack of confidence in the world’s conscience, and calls for a widespread national awakening—advocating physical force to save the persecuted and threatened Eastern Jews. Mirroring the Revisionist movement, he envisions for his “Semitic brethren” this general awakening and rising up:

They cannot attack the defenseless
And I will answer my Semitic brother
In an iron fortress.
Do you hear …? This immense clamor?
On the other side—those are not bells.
They are the beats of awakening hearts—
Fires from the east and west,
Will not consume the strong will of the nation.
This is the answer to the ultimatum.

Szlengel’s use of the expression “the iron fortress” may allude to classic Revisionist images such as Jabotinsky’s image of the “iron wall,” which describes the need to build a Jewish military force that could withstand the Arabs.82 Alternatively, it could allude to the Betar oath:

In a day of service I am as a copper staff
Like a mass of iron in the hands of the smith whose name is Zion
Forge me as you want, —sickle, wheel
Or sword and dagger.”83

Or the will of Samson in Jabotinsky’s novel Shimshon, who commands his people “to gather iron,” meaning military ammunition.84 Given these potential inspirations behind Szlengel’s poem about Jewish-Arab relations in the Middle East, it is possible that this poem further indicates his ideological closeness to the Revisionist movement.

Furthermore, even though Szlengel himself was in danger of persecution and the threat of war loomed in Europe, he demonstrated genuine concern for the international Jewish community, including Jews in majority Arab countries and Mandatory Palestine. Calling for a sense of mutual responsibility and collective defense he wrote: “Fires from the east and west, will not consume the strong will of the nation.”85

As is clear from the examples above, even before World War II, Szlengel expressed firm support for Zionism and venerated the memory of Ben Yosef. Arguably, Szlengel’s ideological stance is consistently Zionist, with a willingness to support, or at least lean into, Revisionism.

Szlengel’s affinity to resistance, Jewish heroism, and the ŻZW underground in the Ghetto

In this section I will analyze Szlengel’s poem “Five Minutes to Midnight,” which he composed during the Warsaw Ghetto uprising. Additionally, I will also examine three previously under analyzed testimonies that directly connect Szlengel to the ŻZW underground and Jewish resistance in the Ghetto.

Five Minutes to Midnight

While confined in the Ghetto period, Szlengel wrote a number of poems that supported and encouraged Jewish resistance. In “Five Minutes to Midnight” he describes himself as part of a group of combatants on a rooftop, waiting for the order to open fire, with the aim of avenging Jewish blood. As he writes in one stanza:

Curse for those who cannot curse.
For those who will not hear the call to wake
And free songs above the city’s walls,
When we call: Hey you, as great as God,
From despair and sadness—rise to action!
The time has come—five minutes to midnight.86

The poem’s form and content follow Adam Mickiewicz’s poem “Ordon’s Redoubt.”87 Mickiewicz was a Polish national poet regarded as a visionary of modern Polish nationalism and an inspiration for the Zionists of the Revisionist movement.88 One line in Szlengel’s poem, “From despair and sadness—rise to action!” presents a call to arms that echoes the ŻZW’s revolt proclamation poster in January 1943: “Prepare for action! Be alert!” in the middle of which was the sentence, “An end to despair and to lack of faith!”89 Thus these two lines, at the very least, demonstrate a similar desire for rebellion and action, using the same words and terminology

The testimony of Ziuta Hartman

Ziuta Hartman was one of the last surviving ŻZW combatants. During the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, she was part of the Brushmakers’ factory. In her testimonies,90 as well as the testimonies of others,91 there is a fundraising evening for the Ghetto children, which took place at the end of March 1943, before the last Passover (in retrospect) of the Ghetto. The star of the evening was Szlengel, who read his poems. At the height of the event, the light suddenly went out, and armed masked figures who presented themselves as ŻZW combatants burst into the hall and gave Szlengel 10,000 or 20,000 Zloty92 as a donation. In a later 2001 testimony Hartman again alluded to this episode: “In the scope of my work in the ŻZW, we also helped to look after abandoned children and orphans, with food, clothing and housing. One day we organized a literary evening in which the poet Władysław Szlengel participated.”93 And again in 2011, Hartman expanded on this account for the creators of the film Venizkhor et kulam?:

The poet Szlengel. I had something wonderful with him in the Ghetto. He spoke to our souls. So I said to Avraham [Rodal] that something needs to be done, so we decided on the spot that money needs to be given to Szlengel for the children of the Ghetto, and the Betar members collected 20,000 zloty and brought them to a festive evening with Szlengel. Szlengel began to speak and said that our future is such and such [not so bright] … and they said to me beforehand, “Don’t be alarmed, something will happen here that the Betar members will do. Look at the wall, not opposite,” and I heard Avraham’s voice saying, “Hands up,” to everyone, and he gave the package of 20,000 zloty to Szlengel and said to him “This is the gift from the Betar combatants to the orphans of the Warsaw Ghetto.”94

From these testimonies, we learn that the fundraising evening was in fact a ŻZW production and that there was a connection between the ŻZW and Szlengel. Avraham Rodal, who recruited Hartman to the ranks of the organization, was one of its senior members and one of the commanders of the Brushmakers.95 His brother Arye (Leon, Leib) Rodal, was considered deputy to the ŻZW commander, Paweł Frenkiel.96

Ruth Shenfeld, who recounted this event, reached the conclusion that “this episode testifies to the moral standing of Szlengel among the public in the Ghetto.”97 In addition, Hartman’s testimonies show Szlengel’s relationship with ŻZW senior commanders. The next testimony connects Szlengel to an act of national heroism, and portrays him as an active partner in the resistance.

The testimony of Menahem Mendel Lifshitz

An anthology of Szlengel’s poems from the Ghetto period, What I Read to the Dead, contains a poem called “A Page from the Diary of the Action—August 10, 1942.“98 In this poem, Szlengel describes the famous march of Dr. Janusz Korczak, at the head of his group of orphans, to the Umschlagplatz (deportation holding areas) and his refusal to leave them, despite holding a false identity card99 that would have allowed him to hide on the Aryan side.100 Szlengel ends the poem with an appeal to Poles, or perhaps to the world:

Do you hear beyond the wall?
Those who watch our death through the bars?
Janusz Korczak died, so that we will also have a Westerplatte.101

Arguably, to Szlengel, Korczak deliberately chose death, and to symbolically sacrifice his life for his nation. He connects Korczak’s martyrdom to Westerplatte, a Polish military transit depot that became famous as the site of the first battle of the German invasion of Poland in 1939. The battleground had become a point of Polish national pride, and thus Szlengel’s poem connects to his Jewish-Polish national worldview, and specifically his support of Revisionism, advocates the importance of national honor.102

According to the aforementioned Menahem Mendel Lifshitz and Armia Krajowa, Lifshitz recalled that, like Korczak, Szlengel had also refused offers to go into hiding on the Aryan side of the city. He testified:

Szlengel wrote in Polish magazines, including the popular magazine about movies [presumably Kino] in which the well-known movie actor Adolf Dymsza took part.

I told him that I had met Dymsza on the Aryan side, and he was prepared to find a hiding place for him and his wife. Szlengel’s reply was that he did not intend to abandon the Ghetto and he would remain with everyone. Afterward he showed me his works…. I don’t remember his works by heart, but he was active and served as an example. I wish to preserve his sacred memory here.103

From his testimony, it is clear that Lifshitz viewed Szlengel with great respect, and as someone who sacrificed his life to remain with his community; arguably he viewed him as a martyr. As the next testimony will reveal, Szlengel fulfilled this role, in one of the last acts of resistance in the ŻZW bunker with the Brushmakers.

The testimony of Avraham (Leon) Neiberg

In April 1943, during the uprising, Szlengel hid in his work colleague’s bunker located in the Brushmakers’ workshop. His colleague, Shimon (Szymek) Katz,104 headed an armed group at 36 Świętojerska Street,105 near his apartment building. From crosschecking the testimonies of Ziuta Hartman106 and Avaraham Neiberg, a young Warsaw Jew who recorded his experiences during the war in a diary, it can be concluded that a group of ŻZW combatants who operated in the Brushmakers’ section were in that bunker. This included the ŻZW commanders and combatants of the Brushmakers’ section: Avraham Rodal, Heinik Zamesz, Jozek Lopata, Jozek’s wife Reina (also a member of the ŻZW), Dr. Josef Celmaister, underground’s doctor, and of course Ziuta herself. 107

Katz’s bunker wasn’t the nearest to Szlengel’s house, as the ŻOB, including section commander, Marek Edelman, were using the bunker at 34 Świętojerska Street.108 Szlengel chose to be in the more distant bunker for ŻZW combatants and not the one in his own apartment building. This choice may indicate his affiliation to the ŻZW. This is how Neiberg, who spontaneously joined the ŻZW combatant forces, describes the bunker at 36 Świętojerska Street:

For only three days I held out in S. Katz’s shelter and today [May 8, 1943], the shelter was discovered and destroyed….

Yesterday the poet W. Szlengel still wrote his poems, in which he sang of the heroism of the Jewish combatants and mourned the fate of the Jews…. This morning at 9:00, the Germans began to drill into the ruins…. Through the hole that was created they threw tear gas sticks into the shelter and removed the stunned Jews from inside…. Szlengel did not know yesterday that this was the last time that he would recount the story of the brave warriors. And perhaps the manuscript [apparently Szlengel’s anthology of his poems What I Read to the Dead, which actually mostly survived]109 Will not survive for posterity.110

According to Neiberg’s testimony, during the uprising Szlengel was in the bunker with the ŻZW commanders and combatants and he was occupied with writing about the heroism of the combatants in the uprising. Arguably, he was an active underground poet, offering spiritual and cultural support to the fighters.

From these testimonies Szlengel was close to the members of the ŻZW underground and the organization’s combatants, and helped them raise funds for social and cultural endeavors. He wrote to incite the Jews to rebel, glorified the heroism of the combatants in his poems with the aim of encouraging them, and chose to be with them even if it meant his own death.

Comparison between Katzenelson and Szlengel

In this section I will compare the work of Itzhak Katzenelson and Władysław Szlengel, two senior Jewish poets in the Warsaw Ghetto, who were affiliated with the Jewish resistance and the uprising.

Itzhak Katzenelson (1885–1944) was known as a public figure, a renowned educator, and one of the greatest Jewish poets of the period. Katzenelson’s artistic style was classical. Before the war he was known as an optimistic but naive poet; however, during the war he decried the Holocaust. By comparison, Szlengel wrote in the style of the younger generation of Polish poets. He was influenced by Julian Tuwim, and his style was modern and biting. Ziuta Hartman characterized Szlengel’s work as “humor of the dead,”111 and Hillel Zeidman describes Szlengel as part of a group of young poets who “go to death with a smile on their faces.”112

Politically and ideologically, Katzenelson was connected to the Dror movement, and its members regarded him as representing the movement’s cultural spirit. For example, Yitzhak “Antek” Zuckerman, Anielewicz’s deputy, describes Katzenelson as someone who encouraged the ŻOB combatants to rebel and sacrifice themselves, stating: “Itzhak Katzenelson, personally, did not have a pistol and did not fire even one shot, and did not kill one German. But what he did was rebellion.”113 The movement valued his contribution so strongly that senior members in the ŻOB arranged work permits for Itzhak Katzenelson and his son in order to protect their “cultural asset.” Thus, Zuckerman posits:

It can be said that Hehalutz saved him—as a person, as a poet, as a sensitive soul, from the claws of despair, revived him. From now on he was in contact with Jewish youth in the underground that was preparing for battle. Here [in the underground] he felt the pulse and taste of life.114

It seems that similarly to Katzenelson, Szlengel also received help from a secret entity. At the beginning of his anthology of poems, What I Read to the Dead, Szlengel thanks his beneficiaries and savers, and says that the reason for this help was their appreciation of his works. He keeps their identity secret:

I dedicate them [my poems] to the people who I could rely on in the hours of total chaos and storm. To those few, who were able in the turmoil of the events, in the dance of change, death and protection to remember not only family, not only connections, not only money—but, that it was necessary to save the last few Mohicans, whose sole property or weapon was words. To those whom my cry in the night reached.115

David Roskies relates to Katzenelson and Szlengel as poets who “crossed the lines” from men of ideas to men of action and active resistance:

In fact, the line between the “Alternativa” [the resistance in the Ghetto] and the “onlookers” [the passive public in the ghetto] and the existing activity of self-help in the community and armed resistance was one that was often crossed by those writers themselves, many of whom also appear as fighters and partisans. Katzenelson, who was too old to go to battle, served as a resident poet for the Dror movement in the Jewish Combat Organization (ŻOB) and similarly the Polish poet Władysław Szlengel, placed his poems at the disposal of the cause.116

Roskis bases his assessment on Bernard Mark’s summaries about the writers and poets of the Warsaw Ghetto. Mark argues: “In the last period of the Ghetto, Szlengel underwent an impressive evolution, in which he distanced himself from the facile circles he had initially been close to and joined the resistance.”117

Therefore, it is clear that the poets Katzenelson and Szlengel were in fact members of the resistance and the underground themselves. Considering the fact that the ŻOB and the ŻZW did not join forces, it can be cautiously assumed that if Szlengel was indeed an underground member, he was a member of the ŻZW.

Another important difference is in the attitude of researchers and Israeli commemorators toward Katzenelson, the “Holocaust poet” and Szlengel, the “Warsaw Ghetto poet.” While Katzenelson has been researched in many academic articles and commemorated in the names of five streets in Israel, the name of a Holocaust museum (Lohamei Haghetaot), and other ways, Szlengel is underresearched and underappreciated in Israel. This could supposedly be attributed to the fact that Katzenelson wrote in Hebrew and therefore received special recognition on the part of Hebrew speakers in Israel; however, Katzenelson wrote his poems mourning the fallen of the Jewish nation in Yiddish. Therefore, one cannot ignore a potential connection between the lack of research and commemoration of Szlengel’s work and the lack of research and commemoration for the ŻZW in Israel.

Summary and conclusion

On a historical level, I have focused on different instances in which Szlengel was directly or indirectly connected to the ŻZW—his participation in a cultural evening organized by ŻZW members; his presence in the bunker during the uprising alongside ŻZW commanders and combatants; and Neiberg’s testimony about Szlengel’s last day, according to which he continued to write his poems to encourage the fighters until the end. Arguably the latter example shows that Szlengel may have been the ideological organ of the ŻZW fighters just as Katzenelson was the ideological poet of Dror and the ŻOB. From this we even learned that the ŻZW underground had a social and cultural dimension to its activities.

On a literary level, this article proves that Szlengel’s artistic work had a Revisionist nationalist character before the war. His prewar poems, such as “To General Haining” and “Song of a Hero,” are written with an arguably Revisionist maximalist approach, in the spirit of Polish national romanticism with Jewish national leanings. Furthermore, in his poems from the period of the Ghetto, such as “Counterattack” and “Five Minutes to Midnight,” Szlengel describes himself as a member of a group of combatants. He writes through the point of view of a fighter lying in ambush on the roofs, who shoots and arouses the people to fight for their lives. Even though it is possible that his work may reflect what he heard from the combatants and he himself might not have fought, his work encompasses outright calls for rebellion.

Additionally, from testimonies, both historical and literary, one can at least question the assumption that Szlengel was politically unaffiliated, did not have a clear national position, and was not connected to that underground. Moreover, I posit that in his last years he was a poet with a clear Zionist-Revisionist political orientation and practically connected to the ŻZW.

Yossi Suede is a researcher of Israeli history specializing in the Beitarite underground movement in the Warsaw Ghetto. He is currently completing his PhD dissertation at Bar-Ilan University in Ramat Gan, Israel. His research focuses on the ideological underpinnings of the Beitarite movement, its resistance activities within the Warsaw Ghetto, and its legacy in postwar Israel. He has presented his research at various academic conferences.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I wish to thank the Menachem Begin Heritage Center in Jerusalem which enabled me to carry out this research. I wish to thank the organizations that helped me to acquire different items that I relied on in writing this article, and especially the National Library in Jerusalem, the Jabotinsky Institute in Tel Aviv, and the Jewish Historical Institute in Warsaw. I wish to thank the researchers who helped me with the article, including Dr. Yechiel Weizman, Prof. Havi Dreifuss, Dr. Avichai Tzur, Dr. Amir Peleg, Dr. Udi Label, Yisrael Medad, Dror Bar-Yosef, and Matan Shefi.

Footnotes

1.

Nasz Przegląd, no. 182, July 1, 1938, trans. R. Wolf and Y, Suede. Please note that these works have been translated for the purpose of this article.

2.

Betar is a Revisionist Zionist youth movement founded in 1923 by Vladimir Jabotinsky, in Riga, Latvia. The movement aimed to create a generation of young Jews who were proud of their heritage and prepared to fight for a Jewish state in Mandatory Palestine. Betar members received military training and were involved in educational and political activities.

3.

Zionism is the national Jewish movement that grew in Europe at the end of the eighteenth century. The aspirations of the movement were to establish a sovereign Jewish state, which would allow the Jews to immigrate to it, thus solving the problem of acute antisemitism (in the form of discrimination, oppression, and violent pogroms) perpetrated against the Jewish diaspora.

4.

The Revisionist movement was a Jewish Zionist political movement that was founded in the 1920s. The movement demanded a revision of the Zionist movement. It was against waiting for the nations of the world and the British Mandate government to declare a Jewish state. Instead it promoted a proactive approach to bring about the founding of a State of Israel as soon as possible. This is in light of the grave danger, in their opinion, for Jews in the diaspora.

5.

Ziuta Hartman, testimony, Jabotinsky Institute Archive, folder כ 7 ב־7/ 9.

6.

The Betar-founded Jewish Military Union (Żydowski Związek Wojskowy, ŻZW) underground during the war and the Warsaw Ghetto uprising.

7.

ŻZW (Żydowski Związek Wojskowy), the Jewish Military Union, was part of the Betar underground in the Warsaw Ghetto.

8.

Lifshitz, a combatant in the Polish underground (Armia Krajowa, AK), smuggled Szlengel and his wife from Lvov to Warsaw at the beginning of 1941. See Menahem Lifshitz, Yad Vashem Archives (YVA), Record Group (RG) 03, folder no. 2771, item no. 3560203, 15–17.

9.

Nasz Przegląd, June 26, 1938.

10.

Nasz Przegląd, July 1, 1938.

11.

Nasz Przegląd, July 8, 1938.

12.

Nasz Przegląd, October 15, 1938.

13.

The researchers of that period, and chiefly Israel Gutman, admit to a lack of research on the subject: “Ongoing political and ideological feuds have led to discrepancies in the reconstruction of the historical picture. The most outstanding example is the neglect, almost to the point of total omission of the ŻZW founded by the Revisionists and members of the Betar in the Warsaw Ghetto, which took an active part in the fighting during the revolt.” See Israel Gutman, “Jewish Resistance: Questions and Assessments,” in The Historiography of the Holocaust Period: Proceedings of the Fifth Yad Vashem International Historical Conference, ed. Israel Gutman and Gideon Greif (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 1988), 656–57.

14.

According to a list of artists and people of culture in Bialystok 1940, where Szlengel and his wife fled at the outbreak of war; YVA, item 7112157, RG M.41.

15.

Haynt, September 20, 1921, 6.

16.

See, e.g., Shmuel D. Kassow, Mi yikhtov et hahistoria shelanu? (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 2014), 338; Ruth Shenfeld, “Władysław Szlengel veshirato begeto varsha,” Gal-ed: Me’asef letoldot yahadut polin 10 (5748): 247.

17.

Internet article published by the ŻIH, no longer available online: P. J. Flatau, K. Zimek and T. Lerski, “Rok urodzenia Władysława Szlengla” (2015), Żydowski Instytut Historyczny (accessed June 25, 2019).

18.

Władysław Szlengel, Asher karati lametim—shirim, trans. Halina Birenbaum (Herzliya, Israel: Halina Birenbaum, 2018), 7.

19.

Haynt, September 20, 1921, 6.

20.

Announcement of Szlengel’s father’s death appeared in Nasz Przegląd on December 9, 1934, 12; the announcement of Szlengel’s mother’s death appeared in Nasz Przegląd on July 30, 1936, 14.

21.

Nasz Przegląd [Our review].

22.

Yiddish obituary of Szlengel’s father, Okopowa Jewish cemetery, Warsaw, MBHCA, IR־219.

23.

Examination by ZIH on students’ data, carried out at my request in January 2022. In 2014, the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, DC compiled lists and scans of the Jewish students at the University of Warsaw. There are approximately fourteen thousand names on the list. Schlangel’s name does not appear.

24.

Irena Maciejewska, introduction to What I Read to the Dead: Co czytałem umarłym (Warsaw: PIW, 1979), 6.

25.

For example, “Cyanide” was a poem on the subject of abortion that arose in the wake of a controversial play of the same name by the German playwright Friedrich Wolf.

26.

As well as Nasz Przegląd, Szlengel also published in Tygodnik Żydowski—Jüdisches Tagblatt (The Jewish Weekly, Jewish News), the newspaper of the Jewish National Fund in Polish, where he published poems of a definite Zionist nature; in the satirical newspaper Szpilky (Pins), where he published biting poems on Jewish national social topics; in the film magazine Kino (Cinema), where he published poems and cultural criticism; in the newspaper of the Polish socialist party, PPS, Robotnik (Laborer), where he published poems supporting Polish nationalism; and in the newspaper of the Jewish elite that was published in Lvov, Sygnaly (Signs).

27.

Israel Gutman, “Władysław Szlengel,” in Ha’entsiklopedia shel hashoa, vol. 5, ed. Israel Gutman (Tel Aviv: Yad Vashem and Sifriat Hapoalim, 1990), 1217.

28.

Magdalena Stańczuk, Władysław Szlengel, Poeta nieznany: Wybór tekstów (Warsaw: Bellona, 2013), 21.

29.

Szlengel, “The Key Is with the Gatekeeper,” and “Farewell to the Hat,” in Asher karati, 80 and 170, respectively.

30.

Stańczuk, Poeta nieznany, 15.

31.

Shenfeld, “Szlengel veshirato,” 252.

32.

According to the record of artists in Bialystok (see Haynt, September 20, 1921); and also, Kazimierz Krukowski, Z Melpomeną na emigracji (Warsaw: Czytelnik, 1987), 21–22.

33.

Menahem Lifshitz, testimony, YVA, 15–17. In this period (the end of 1941), the camp served as a factory in which some six hundred Jews worked as forced laborers. Toward the end of the year the camp was surrounded by a fence and from the beginning of 1942, it began to function as a labor and extermination camp with large numbers of prisoners; however, it is possible that Szlengel was employed there in forced labor in the initial period. See Israel Gutman, ed., Ha’entsiklopedia shel hashoa, vol. 3 (Tel Aviv: Yad Vashem and Sifriat Hapoalim, 1990), 572.

34.

Wanda Pawlikowska and her husband, Polish officer Mieczysław Rynka, served in the same unit as Menahem Mendel Lifshitz. Pawlikowska and Rynka are not recognized as Righteous Among the Nations.

35.

Menahem Mendel Lifshitz, testimony, YVA, 15–17.

36.

As of 2023, the building is still standing, unlike most of the Ghetto buildings, which were destroyed by the Nazis. It is also designated for conservation, mainly due to the fact that it was Szlengel’s residence.

37.

A satirical performance in which the artists referred to themselves as a living newspaper, describing the day’s news to their audience. See Barbara Engelking and Jacek Leociak, The Warsaw Ghetto: A Guide to the Perished City (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2009), 587–88.

38.

A name given to him by the Warsaw Ghetto archivist, Emanuel Ringelblum; see Kassow, Mi yikhtov, 338 and 488n94. The Ringelblum Archive was responsible for saving many of his writings from the period of the Ghetto in the scope of the Oneg Shabbat Archive (Kassow, 227).

39.

Kassow, Mi yikhtov, 123.

40.

An entrance sign to this building, preserved in the Ringelblum Archive, testifies to his residence at this address, with details of the number of times one had to ring the bell in order to call a specific house tenant (in other words each tenant had an assigned number of rings). See ARG 11 558, AZIH; This matter is mentioned in Szlengel’s poem “The Rings” in Asher karati, 97.

41.

Shenfeld, “Szlengel veshirato,” 252.

42.

Emanuel Ringelblum, “Ketavim aḥaronim,” in Yaḥasei polanim-yehudim, yanuar 1943–april 1944, ed. Israel Gutman, Yosef Karmish and Yisrael Shaham (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem and Beit Lohamei Haghetaot, 5754), 122.

43.

David Roskis, El mul pnei hara’a (Raanana: Hakibbutz Hameuhad, 1993), 206.

44.

Adolf A. Berman, Bamakom asher ye’ad li hagoral (Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuhad, 5738), 163.

45.

Stańczuk, Poeta nieznany, 22.

46.

For example see, Adam Kowalczyk, “Czarny humor w twórczości Władysława Szlengla ze szczególnym uwzględnieniem wiersza Mała stacja Treblinki,” Annales Universitatis Paedagogicae Cracoviensis. Studia Historicolitteraria 15 (2015): 121–29; Karolina Koprowska, “Doświadczenia zapisane w rzeczach: O kilku wierszach Władysława Szlengla,” Ruch Literacki 57 no. 3 (2016): 327–41; and Piotr Kilanowski, “At the subtenant’s window: About Władysław Szlengel’s poem The window to the other side,” Polonistyka. Innowacje 13 (2021): 21–42, doi: 10.14746/pi.2021.13.5. ‏

47.

Shenfeld, “Szlengel veshirato,” 248.

48.

Shenfeld, 248.

49.

Szlengel, Asher karati, 39.

50.

Shenfeld, “Szlengel veshirato,” 249.

51.

Shenfeld, 255.

52.

Ringelblum, Yaḥasei polanim-yehudim, 122.

53.

Israel Gutman, Mered hanetzurim, 3rd rev. ed. (Tel Aviv: Moreshet, 1993), 313.

54.

Havi Dreifuss (Ben-Sasson), Ghetto Varsha, HaSof (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 2017), 341.

55.

Stańczuk, Poeta nieznany, 22. It seems that it is not a coincidence that most of the poems that I quote were left out of the anthology.

56.

See Kassow, Mi yikhtov, 338; in this context I wish to note that according to my understanding, Szlengel’s love of Poland, Warsaw, and local culture is evident from many poems, and is genuinely present in his writing.

57.

Szlengel, Asher karati, 39, 34, and 30, respectively.

58.

Etzel (IZL) was a Zionist paramilitary organization in Mandatory Palestine, which was an outgrowth of the larger paramilitary organization Haganah.

59.

See for example Amir Goldstein, “Giborim miḥutz lapanteon: Tsimaḥto shel mitos ole hagardom bayemin harevizionisti vehama’avak al mekomo bazikharon hakolektivi beyisrael” (MA thesis, Haifa University, 2003), Jabotinsky Archive, research thesis symbol כ8– 289.

60.

Nasz Przegląd, no. 177, June 26, 1938.

61.

It appears that Szlengel was mistaken about Ben-Yosef’s age. According to the available information on record, Ben-Yosef was born in 1913, and therefore in 1938 he was twenty-five not twenty-two. In any case, in the context of the time and the newspaper articles in which the poem was published, it is clear that the poet is referring to Ben-Yosef.

62.

Nasz Przegląd, no. 182, July 1, 1938.

63.

It is interesting to note that “The Tel Hai Song” appeared in Polish anonymously in the Magen David newspaper, published by ŻZW members in the Warsaw Ghetto. In my view, the poem’s language and style indicate that its writer was none other than Szlengel, but it is impossible to prove this. See the poem in Shlomo Skolsky’s translation into Hebrew in Yosef Karmish, ed., Itonut hamaḥteret hayehudit bevarsha, vol. 5, (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 5753), 195.

64.

Shlomo Skolsky, Besod brit damim ([n.p.]: Ha’amuta lehafatsat toda’a leumit, 1987).

65.

Jabotinsky Archive, folder 2, 19–43, and in Yaakov Shavit, Havlaga o teguva: Havikhuaḥ bayishuv hayehudi 5696–5699 (1936–1939) (Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan University, 1983), 127.

66.

David Ben-Gurion, made these remarks at a meeting of the Mapai central committee on June 29, 1938, the day on which Ben-Yosef was executed. See David Ben Gurion, Zikhronot, vol. 5 (Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 1971–1987), 220.

67.

Ze’ev Jabotinsky, letter of July 5, 1938, to the Galilee battalion and the Rosh Pina unit of Betar, quoted in Likhvosh et hahar—Sefer Shlomo Ben-Yosef, ed. Shalom Rosenfeld (Tel Aviv: Hadar, 1979), 53.

68.

A Zionist paramilitary military organization founded by Avraham Stern in Mandatory Palestine. It advocated violence to remove British control of the region, and promoted the unrestricted immigration of Jews to Mandatory Palestine.

69.

On the conference, see Yaacov Shavit and Jehuda Reinharz, Haderekh leseptember 1939: Hayishuv, yehudei polin vehatnua hatzionit erev milḥemet ha’olam hashniya (Raanana: Am Oved, 2013), 147. Yaacov Shavit and Jehuda Reinharz, The Road to September 1939: Polish Jews, Zionists, and the Yishuv on the Eve of World War II, trans. Michal Sapir (Waltham, MA: Brandeis University Press/UPNE, 2018).

70.

Nasz Przegląd, 16, no. 189, July 8, 1938, trans. for this article by R. Wolf and Y. Suede.

71.

Arye Naor and Arnon Lammfromm, eds., Menahem Begin, rosh hamemshala hashishi—mivḥar teudot mipirkei ḥayav (1913–1992) (Jerusalem: Israel State Archives, 5774), 9–10.

72.

Alperin, “Letters from Evian—July 6,” Haaretz, July 13, 1938.

73.

Cherniak, “After Evian and Before London,” Haaretz, July 22, 1938.

74.

The alternative Zionist umbrella organization that Jabotinsky founded after he withdrew from the Zionist Organization in 1923.

75.

Zeev Jabotinsky, Memorandum sent to the members of the British Parliament, London, November 22, 1938, Jabotinsky Archives, letter 3864, folder א 1- 2/28.

76.

Nasz Przegląd, 16, no. 213, July 31, 1938.

77.

At the time, Weizmann was the head of the Jewish Agency for Palestine, a branch of the World Zionist Organization. Most endeavors of the Jewish Agency were focused on encouraging immigration to the Land of Israel. The goal of the ultimatum was to discourage Weizmann from continuing these immigration programs, and therefore halting Jewish immigration to Mandatory Palestine.

78.

Newspapers in Palestine and in the Jewish world mentioned the Arab ultimatum. See for example, Haynt, October 1938; and Davar, October 12, 1938.

79.

Editorial, Haboker, October 14, 1938.

80.

Menahem Kapeliuk, “Days of Expectation and Fear,” Davar, October 19, 1938.

81.

Nasz Przegląd, no. 289, October 15, 1938.

82.

Zeev Jabotinsky, “Al kir habarzel (anaḥnu veha’aravim) 1933,” in Baderekh lamedina (Jerusalem: Eri Jabotinsky, 5710), 251.

83.

Zeev Jabotinsky, “Shir haneder,” in Shirim (Jerusalem: Eri Jabotinsky, 5707), 207.

84.

Zeev Jabotinsky, Shimshon (Jerusalem: Eri Jabotinsky, 5724), 308.

85.

Szlengel’s reference in the poem to fires in Jerusalem: “A red dawn above Jerusalem,” and “Fires from the east and west,” can perhaps be attributed to the arson of the building site of Hadassah on Mt. Scopus at the beginning of that month, which had been described as a large fire. See Editorial article, “Shuv nisu lishloaḥ esh bebinyanei hamerkaz harefui,” Haboker, October 2, 1938.

86.

Szlengel, Asher karati, 154.

87.

According to Kassow, Mi yikhtov, 346.

88.

See Yaakov Shavit, Hamitologia shel hayamin, ed. Natan Raanan (Tel Aviv: Beit Berl and Moshe Sharett Institute, Sifriat Emda—Sidrat Academia, 5746).

89.

Announcement of the Jewish Military Union, Jabotinsky Institute Archives כ 7 ב - 2/ 4.

90.

Hartman’s testimony to the Administrator General, 2001, Jabotinsky Archive, item no. כ 7 ב־7/ 9; her testimony to YVA, 2004, item no. 526631, folder 12471, RG O.3; her testimony to the Menahem Begin Heritage Center, 2008, item no. VD־061; and her testimony recorded by Haim Lazar, which appears in his book; Chaim Lazar, Metzada shel varsha (Tel Aviv: Jabotinsky Institute, 1963), 220.

91.

Such as in the diary of Maryla from the Warsaw Ghetto that was found in the Majdanek camp. See, Redakcja Nawkowa and Pioter-Weiser, Dziennik z warszawskiego getta (Krakow-Lublin: Panstwowe museum na Majdanku, 2008), 85–91; and see, the testimony of Bronislaw Mirsky quoted by Lazar in Metzada shel Varsha, 220.

92.

In most of Hartman’s testimonies she mentions the number 10,000 zlote; sometimes she gives the number 20,000.

93.

Ziuta Hartman, testimony, Jabotinsky Institute Archive, file כ 7 ב־7/ 9.

94.

Menachem Begin Heritage Center Archive, VD־061־6.

95.

Dariusz Libionka and Laurence Weinbaum, Bohaterowie, hochsztaplerzy, opisywacze. Wokół Żydowskiego Związku Wojskowego (Warsaw: Stowarzyszenie Centrum Badań nad Zagładą Żydów, 2011), 71; and Efraim Weichselfisch, Elef Lochamey Betar (Tel Aviv: Museum of Fighters and Partisans, Jabotinsky Institute, 1989), 563.

96.

Weichselfisch, Elef Lochamey Betar, 564.

97.

Shenfeld, “Szlengel veshirato,” 253.

98.

Szlengel, Asher karati, 87.

99.

Janusz Korczak, Ghetto Diary, trans. Ewa Bieńkowska and Geraldine T. Swiderski (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003), 10.

100.

Szlengel was apparently close to Korczak, which is clear from Szlengel’s introduction to Korczak’s Ghetto orphanage play, “The Mailman.” My theory is that their acquaintance revolved around the editorial staff of Nasz Przegląd, as Korczak was one of the editors of Maly Przegląd (Our Young Review), its children’s newspaper.

101.

Władysław Szlengel, What I Read to the Dead, trans. from Polish to Hebrew by Halina Birenbaum as Asher karati lametim—shirei geto varsha ([n.p.]: Traklin, 1987), 60.

102.

Note that Engelking and Leociak interpret Szlengel’s poem as a desire for the individual to be true to himself, and do not see the comparison of Korczak’s act to Westerplatte as an attempt to give it a dimension of national pride, despite Szlengel’s explicit statement “Janusz Korczak died, so that we will also have a Westerplatte,” that is to say—for the Jews. Engelking and Leociak, Warsaw Ghetto, 546–47.

103.

Menahem Lifshitz, Testimony, YVA, 17; it is to be noted in this context that Engelking and Leociak deduce from the testimony of Simon Rogozinski that Szlengel did try to find refuge outside the Ghetto, but did not manage to do so, as he did not find contacts and friends on the other side. In my opinion, if they base this only on the testimony they cite, it cannot be concluded definitely that this was what he wanted. It is also possible to understand that he sought occasional breaks from the Ghetto life on the Aryan side (Engelking and Leociak, p. 590).

104.

We have Szlengel’s own testimony on his relations with Katz in the preface to his book of poems, in which he mentions Shimon Katz (Szymek) in a description of the forthcoming uprising. See Szlengel, Asher karati, 18. According to Kassow, Katz was a well-known figure in the underworld of the Ghetto, but I have not found sources for this. See Kassow, Mi yikhtov, 346.

105.

Nahman Blumenthal and Yosef Karmish, Hameri vehamered begeto varsha: Sefer mismakhim (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 5735) 290–91.

106.

Ziuta Hartman, testimony, YVA, 2004, item no. 5266314, folder 12471, RG O.3, 28–30; also, Ziuta Hartman, testimony, Menachem Begin Heritage Center Archive, VD־061־6. Hartman does not state the house number of the bunker (36, but gives the number 37), with the reservation that she does not remember exactly. Number 37 did not exist, as that part of the street had only even numbers and opposite them was Krasinski Garden. Moshe Arens maintained that according to the testimony he collected from Ziuta Hartman, it was a bunker at number 38. See Moshe Arens, Degalim me’al hageto (Tel Aviv: Maskil, 2009), 160; Moshe Arens, Flags Over the Warsaw Ghetto (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2011). From Neiberg’s references to Lopata, however, as someone who fought with him in bunker number 36, we can conclude that Ziuta meant the bunker at 36 Świętojerska Street.

107.

For information on Rodal, see E. Weichselfisch, Elef loḥamei, 562; for information on Jozek Lopata (see p. 355); Reina Lopata (p. 356); Heinik Zamesz (p. 223); and on Celmaister (p. 501). On Lopata and Zamesz, see also Neiberg, Ha’aḥaronim, 91–93, and elsewhere. Celmaister is regarded in several testimonies as the doctor of the ŻZW. See Jabotinsky Institute Archives, Folder כ7ב־7־9.

108.

See Yair Sheleg, “Mismakhim bekad ḥalav mitaḥat la’adama,” Ha’aretz, April 3, 2003. It should be noted that according to Menahem Lifshitz’s testimony, the last time Lifshitz saw Szlengel was in Szlengel’s apartment at 34 Świętojerska Street, in the presence of Marek Edelman who also, as noted, lived in the same building. Nothing was said, however, about the nature of the meeting, and therefore, apart from the fact that they knew one another, nothing can be deduced from this. Edelman never commented on their acquaintance. There is a mention of Edelman regarding Szlengel in which he categorizes him as a poet close to socialist Polish circles. Perhaps he is basing this on Szlengel’s writing in the newspaper of the Polish Socialist Party, although as mentioned this was not the main newspaper in which he published.

109.

Kassow, however, notes that according to the poems quoted by Ringelblum it seems that there were also poems that were lost, and it may be that they were hidden in the third hiding place of the Oneg Shabbat archive in the Brushmakers’ section, which, as is known, has not yet been recovered. Kassow, Mi Yikhtov, 488.

110.

The excerpt appears in Neiberg, Ha’aḥaronim, 91–93.

111.

Ziuta Hartman, testimony, Menachem Begin Heritage Center Archive, VD־061־6.

112.

Hillel Zeidman, Yoman geto varsha (New York: Die Yiddishe Voch, 5717), 201.

113.

See Moshe Schner, Katzenelson vehatnua haḥalutzit—tekstim (Kiryat Tivon: Oranim College, 2008); Shlomo Even Shoshan, “Yitzhak Katzenelsonḥayav veyetsirotav” in Yitzhak Katzenelson, shirim 1903–1938 (mivḥar) (Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuhad and Beit Lohamei Haghetaot, 1975).

114.

Itzhak Zuckerman and Itzhak Katzenelson in the Warsaw Ghetto, Beit Lohamei Haghetaot Archive, no. 6663.

115.

Szlengel, Asher karati, front cover.

116.

Roskies, El mul, 206.

117.

Mark, Di umgekumne, 66.

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