Selections from The Polish Jewish Observer - Part 1

Feb 5, 2020

The Polish Jewish Observer, a section of the City and East London Observer published for East European Jews in London during World War II, is an exceptionally valuable resource for anyone interested in Jewish refugee networks in Britain and around the world, Polish-Jewish relations, and the development of Holocaust reportage in World War II Britain. Every issue of the Observer contained descriptions of the progress of the Holocaust, and most also contained a “Polish Corner” devoted to the activities of the Polish government-in-exile and other Poles.

Here are some selections from The Polish Jewish Observer. They present a window into the (often unfulfilled) hopes and (justifiable) apprehensions of Polish and other European Jews in Great Britain during World War II.

Friday, October 29, 1943

“‘CHAIM YANKEL’ politicians was a phrase used by a speaker at the World Jewish Congress which has caused great resentment. Both journalists and members of the audience commented on its tactlessness. The speaker who used the term obviously meant that Jews from Eastern Europe, of the orthodox class, for instance, are not politically experienced and should, therefore, not mix in politics.”

Historical Note: The event this news blurb most likely refers to is the conference held by the British section of the World Jewish Congress at the Dorchester Hotel in London on October 24, 1943. The use of the term “Chaim Yankel” by one of the speakers may refer to the perceived impotence of traditionally religious Jewish politicians in the face of the Nazi threat.

According to Leo Rosten in The Joys of Yiddish, Chaim Yankel is a generic term to describe:

1. a nonentity, nobody, any ‘poor Joe.’

2. a colloquial, somewhat condescending way of addressing a Jew whose name you do not know - just as ‘Joe’ or ‘Mac’ is sometimes used in English. ‘Hey Mac, you dropped something.’ ‘Eh, Reb Yankel, look where you’re going.’”

Rosten’s anecdote explaining how a Chaim Yankel might typically behave is as follows: “A Chaim Yankel, visiting a cemetery, beheld a magnificent marble mausoleum, on the portal of which was incised ROTHSCHILD. ‘Ai-ai-ai!’ exclaimed the Chaim Yankel. “Now that’s what I call living!”

Friday, November 26, 1943

“Enquiry shows that the number of Jewish students attending the Polish medical section of Edinburgh University has been steadily increased. They now number 24 out of a total of 170. Many of them have been given temporary release from the Polish Army but there are a number who are civilians.”

Historical Note: The Polish School of Medicine (PSM) at the University of Edinburgh was established in March 1941 and lasted until 1949. During its eight years of existence, over 336 students matriculated there. In his University of Edinburgh Ph.D thesis, The Polish School of Medicine at the University of Edinburgh (1941-1949): A case study in the transnational history of Polish wartime migration to Great Britain, Michał Adam Palasz notes that around 45, or 11%, of PSM students were of Jewish descent. Discrimination against Jews at prewar Polish universities, including medical schools, was rampant, but at the PSM it was subdued or at least hidden.

Although it was set up for students and doctors in the Polish armed forces, civilians were welcome there from the outset. The curriculum, language of instruction, and degrees were Polish. After the war, most of its students remained in Britain. The last dean of the School of Medicine, Jakub Rostowski, formerly Rothfeld [Bukaczowce, now Bukachivtsi, Ukraine 1884 - London 1971], formerly a neurology professor at the University of Lwów [now Lviv, Ukraine], was a Jewish-born Catholic convert.

Learn more about The Polish Jewish Observer and see other selections.

Jennie Eagle is an intern in the YIVO Archives.


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