It might seem strange to begin a discussion about the book Neighbors by Jan Tomasz Gross with reflections on management, but for some reason, that’s the thought that came to me as I considered the book after finishing it.
Having managed people for many years, I’ve developed a few principles that I’ve always tried to adhere to in both work and life. One of them is to speak openly about what has happened and to draw lessons from both one’s own missteps and the events of history, even when they are extremely unpleasant. For me, Neighbors is precisely such an example. It is an honest account of events that took place in several small towns in Poland in 1941, when the areas around Białystok, previously occupied by the Red Army, were taken over by German forces following the launch of their war against the USSR.
The main focus of the book is on the pogrom in the village of Jedwabne, where, on July 10, the majority of the Jewish population was massacred. For many years, it was believed that the Jews were killed by German soldiers, specifically the so-called Einsatzgruppen. However, facts emerged that shocked many in Poland. It turned out that there were no Germans in the village at the time, and that all the atrocities were committed by Poles—the Jewish neighbors with whom they had lived side by side for decades—once the new authorities made it clear they would turn a blind eye to everything. And from there, it was just a short step to taking Jewish property and dividing up the spoils.
This book is the result of an investigation based on discovered evidence and subsequent trials of the pogrom participants, during which the defendants suddenly couldn’t recall events accurately, attempting either to exonerate themselves or to present themselves as victims of circumstance. Meanwhile, preserved testimonies, including accounts from several survivors, show that the extermination of neighbors was not done under coercion. Some people even traveled from neighboring villages specifically to take part.
The Jedwabne case is not an isolated incident, but it is one of the few for which any evidence and proof could be found. After the war, former perpetrators made every effort to conceal the truth, masking it under the blanket excuse of “the Germans came and killed the Jews.” Unfortunately, history has preserved numerous examples of how, during the occupation, local residents actively assisted the Nazis in exterminating Jews, betraying those who were hiding and even those who risked their lives to shelter Jews from death. And here, I’m not speaking only about Poland.
The most horrifying aspect is that even decades later, many were not only unwilling to admit guilt but couldn’t even acknowledge the injustice and inhumanity of these actions. In this book, the author provides examples of how Poles themselves persecuted and forced out of their homes many who had saved Jews during the war or had at least tried to defend them—and this extended even to their descendants. To this day, in casual conversations, you can still hear people say that “the Germans did the right thing back then.”
Poland is not alone in knowing such stories. Local populations actively participated in horrific pogroms and the extermination of their compatriots (and not just Jews) across many occupied territories. Lithuania, Ukraine, Belarus…
In my homeland, there is a memorial called Khatyn, known to every schoolchild from an early age—a monument on the site of a village where the Nazis burned almost all the residents alive for their suspected support of partisans. It has always been a reminder of atrocities that must never be forgotten. However, for a long time, it was hardly ever mentioned that a significant role in the extermination of the village’s inhabitants was played by a unit composed of prisoners of war and local volunteers, among whom were Ukrainians, Belarusians, and Russians. Just like the Poles, in our history, we tried to “forget” these facts, which conflicted with the heroic image of Slavic fighters against the German invaders.
I want to express my gratitude to Jan Tomasz Gross and many other Poles who ensure that the true history is not forgotten, as they search for its origins and the reasons why a neighbor might turn against a neighbor.
But it is horrifying that alongside the true heroes—those who risked everything to save even strangers, those who walked to their deaths with their students in concentration camps—there were always sadists and monsters nearby, so easily inspiring ordinary people to turn into beasts.
The book is fascinating as a documentary investigation, though it lacks some structure and definitive conclusions. Nevertheless, it is an important perspective on events that should never be swept under the rug or forgotten.
P.S. In 2012, a film called Pokłosie (known in English as Aftermath) was made in Poland, which can be loosely considered “inspired by the Jedwabne pogrom.” While the story differs, the film is more about the aftermath of the pogrom than the pogrom itself. It shows how people tried to “forget” the story while continuing to harbor hatred toward both Jews and those who attempted to revive their memory and the details of their demise.
My rating: 4/5
