I have spent the past three weeks in three cities which were destroyed during World War II and then rebuilt: Warsaw, St. Petersburg, and Berlin. Warsaw’s experiences tell us much about what cities and history mean to people. Warsaw, the capital of Poland since 1596, was completely leveled by the German Army. It is hard to picture what those words mean.
Even before the Germans
attacked Poland, architects
developed a plan to obliterate the city and its 1.3 million people, and
then rebuild a model provincial German city one-tenth that size. During the
invasion of Poland in September 1939, the Luftwaffe made the largest air raid
in history up to that time on Warsaw, a terror attack with incendiary bombs
meant to demoralize the Polish people. Thousands of civilians were killed and
buildings ruined.
A few years later, after the
uprising of the last few thousand Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto in April 1943, that
portion of the central city was entirely razed
to the ground by the Wehrmacht, by bombing and bulldozers, following an
order from Heinrich
Himmler.
In August 1944, a second
uprising in Warsaw began. As the Soviet Army approached from the east, Polish
underground forces attacked the German occupiers, hoping to liberate the city
themselves. The Soviets halted their advance, allowing the German Army to
overwhelm the rebels and then use a special Annihilation
and Incineration Detachment to methodically destroy the whole city, burning
libraries and blowing up churches. Hitler’s order was clear: “Warsaw
has to be pacified, that is, razed to the ground.”
By the end of the war, about
90% of Warsaw’s buildings had been demolished and most of its population
murdered, significantly greater destruction
than was caused by the atomic bombs in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Already during the German
occupation, Polish architects and city planners risked their lives to
document existing historic structures and to plan for rebuilding. After the war’s
end, the new Communist leaders of Poland considered moving the capital to
another city. No modern city had
ever been rebuilt after such complete demolition. Polish patriots who had
fought in the resistance argued that the historical architectural substance of
Warsaw represented the Polish nation and should be rebuilt.
Over the next 7 years, a
replica of old Warsaw was constructed. The destruction of the city center was
so complete that 22 paintings of city streets done in the 1770s by the Venetian
painter Bernardo
Bellotto were used to recreate historic buildings. Bricks from the rubble
and fragments of architectural details were reused. Warsaw’s citizens returned
by the thousands to help in the reconstruction, following the motto, “The
entire nation builds its capital.” Unlike the rebuilding of German cities, no foreign
funds were available for Warsaw. The entire reconstruction was paid for by
popular donations to the Social Fund for the Rebuilding of the Capital.
Is Warsaw now an
architectural Disneyland of fake “old” buildings? No, it is a reborn place of
remembrance, a monument to the importance of the past for the present. Warsaw’s
tragic history is displayed everywhere in monuments, plaques, sculptures and
signs that remind residents and visitors of the two uprisings in 1943 and 1944,
of the responsibility of Germans and Russians for the city’s historical
agonies, and of the pride of the Polish people in their resurrected capital.
Public historical reminders,
as in every country, tell only a partial story. As national politics shift, so
does the narrative told by a community’s memorials, usually with a long delay.
In June 2016, the Polish government decided to remove 229 monuments
across the country to the Soviet “liberation” of Poland. The demoted memorials
will be gathered in an open air museum at a former Soviet army base outside of
Warsaw. The education director of the Institute of National Remembrance
explained that these monuments propagate “what we consider as untruth:
gratitude for having given Poland independence.”
The conflicted national
Polish reaction to their Jewish fellow citizens, which occasionally included
massacres of Jews during
and after the German
occupation, is not addressed in public monuments. That difficult story is still
politically
controversial and may require more time to become part of accepted Polish
history.
The fateful decision to
recover a nation’s history by rebuilding Warsaw, to undo the destruction of war
and racism, has implications beyond Poland. The destruction of cities in the Middle
East in the Syrian civil war or by the terrorists of ISIS raises similar
questions about what will happen in the future – rebuilding the old or
constructing the new. On a smaller scale, American towns like Jacksonville have
faced similar decisions. The urban renewal
craze of the 1960s and 1970s often led to the replacement of historic
buildings by ugly new construction, as in Jacksonville’s central square. More
recently, considerable funds have been used to remove those architectural
mistakes and to invest in the recovery of unique local architectural history.
As in Poland and elsewhere, reconstruction of local history means the recovery
of local pride. The past lives on in old buildings, physical reminders of the
accomplishments of our predecessors.
Steve Hochstadt
Berlin, Germany
Published in the Jacksonville
Journal-Courier, August 30, 2016
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