CHAPTER 53

The First of May Demonstrations Under the Piłsudski Regime

Over the years, the First of May demonstrations in many countries had changed their character. From a day of political struggle containing in its history chapters of great heroism, often paid for with bloody sacrifices, it had slowly changed into a joyful folk celebration, especially among the Socialists in the West European countries. But in Poland, even after the First World War, and especially for the Bund, the First of May was still a day of difficult trials, struggle, and resistance. In this sense the situation of the Bund was worse than the situation of the Polish Socialist Party (PPS). The PPS had earned some standing in the fight for an independent Poland. Many Polish government officials, especially during the Piłsudski era, came out of its ranks, and their sentiments favoring the PPS remained with them for a long time, to some extent lingering even after the Piłsudski coup. So no one dared bother the PPS, in any case at least not until the Piłsudski regime became openly Fascist.

For the Bund things were entirely different. Along with the deep-seated antisemitism in Poland, especially among the upper social levels and the ruling classes, the Bund was hated both as a Jewish and as a Socialist party. In addition, the Bund was hated still more because of its notion that Jews should be equal citizens of Poland, equal to other Poles. With the Zionists, we had much less trouble. They agreed with the reactionary Poles on at least one point: Both the antisemites and the Zionists believed—although for different reasons—that the home of the Jews, including the Polish Jews, was not Poland, that the Jews should and must leave Poland. The Bund believed that the Jews not only had a right to be in Poland, but that Poland must be a land where both Poles and Jews had equal rights. The Bund also demanded and fought for the idea that the Jews in Poland should hold onto and develop their own specific national character, their Yiddish language and their Yiddish culture. Such an “insolent” position the ruling classes of Poland and the Polish government officials could not abide. And for them the symbol of this Bundist “insolence” was—the First of May.

Figure 97. May Day demonstration, late 1930s, Warsaw. From left: Victor Alter, Henryk Erlich, Noyekh, and Emanuel Nowogrodzki. From the Archives of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York.

The Warsaw Bund in the first few years after the war used to gather in Plac Teatralny, as I have previously mentioned. This square was one of the central points in the non-Jewish, Polish sector of the capital. The Bund would also demonstrate on the First of May in other prominent Polish boulevards and squares where “high society” lived and where the governmental ministries and the old aristocratic mansions were located. The Jewish workers marched in these places under red flags, inscribed with Yiddish slogans, and singing Yiddish songs. For this reason, and others, the Polish reactionaries poured out their greatest wrath on the Bund. It aimed to drive the Bund from the streets, or at least take away its desire to come and demonstrate in the “Polish” streets. For the Bund, however, it was a matter of honor and a basic civil right to be able to hold its mass demonstration in the so-called Polish streets as well.

Right after the Piłsudski coup (May 1926) there was a certain amount of governmental easing toward the Bund’s First of May demonstrations. This happened just at the moment the Bund movement had begun its rapid growth. SKIF (Sot-syalistisher Kinder Farband—Socialist Children’s Union) was established in 1926.

The Youth-Bund Tsukunft also broadened its activities at this time. Both of them began to incorporate modern, Western European methods in their pedagogical work: elements of scouting, uniforms for their members (for the SKIF, dark blue shirts and blouses with red neckerchiefs; for the Tsukunft, light blue shirts and blouses with red neckerchiefs and trim). A certain amount of color and luster was being introduced. Also our sports organization, Morgnshtern, was then being developed, bringing something new into our whole movement. In other fields Bund activities were strengthened and broadened as well: the Sotsyalistisher Hantverker Union (Socialist Artisans Union), Yidishe Arbeter Froy—Jewish Working Woman—(YAF), and the struggle for equal right to work for Jews, for Yiddish secular schools, and for cultural activities. This new mood and growth was also reflected in our celebration of the First of May. We introduced more color and more elements of a folk holiday. The First of May became not only a day of struggle, but also a day of joy and celebration.

Figure 98. May Day, 1933, Warsaw. Henryk Erlich speaking at a demonstration in front of the Bundist club on Przejazd Street. From the Archives of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York.

Figure 99. Members of Tsukunft, Przemysl, Poland, 1920. The sign held by the pair in the first row reads: “With united energies we will build the future.” From the Archives of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York.

The preparations for the First of May created a holiday spirit, a feeling of elation. For many weeks, the coming holiday was the center of all we did and thought about. A couple of months before the First of May, a large May Day Committee was formed. Several representatives of the Warsaw Bund’s Central Committee were on it, a representative of each union—a representative from YAF, from Tsukunft, SKIF, and all the organizations and institutions that were under the aegis of the Bund. This broad May Day Committee appointed an executive that carried out the practical details in preparation for the First of May demonstration. May Day committees were also active within each separate organization, especially in the unions, in Tsukunft, and in many others.

The Bund wanted to conduct a joint demonstration with all the labor parties. But this was impossible to achieve. We therefore concentrated our efforts toward something that seemed practical and possible: a joint demonstration by the Bund and the PPS. But even with this limited goal, various difficulties arose that could not always be overcome. Nevertheless, even if it wasn’t possible to have a joint demonstration with the PPS, we always found a way to manifest a certain solidarity between our two organizations. The two separate demonstrations would often end together at Theater Square, one next to the other, merging as one demonstration, and sharing speakers. We would also frequently exchange speakers at the May Day athenaeums of the Bund and the PPS that took place in the large assembly halls after the marches.

Figure 100. Presidium of the first countrywide SKIF Conference, Warsaw, October 1936. From the Naye Folkstsaytung, November 19, 1937. From the Archives of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York.

Dr. Emanuel Sherer, Artur Zieglboym (before he settled in Łódź), and I would represent the Bund in discussions with the Warsaw PPS prior to the First of May demonstration. I always took part in the discussions, because one of the most important problems we had to discuss in connection with the First of May demonstration was security.

Meanwhile lively internal preparations for the First of May were starting up in every branch of the movement. First, every organization inspected and prepared its flags. Not only did the Bund have flags, but also Tsukunft and YAF had their flags. And not only every union, but also every larger party group, and even separate locals of a union, had their own special flags. In honor of the holiday, sometimes a group that had previously not had a flag, now made one. After seeing to the flags, they next turned to the making of the banners, inscribed with political slogans and demands, usually painted on a long piece of linen cloth attached to two sticks at either end. In addition to its main flag, the flags of the youthful union locals and the Tsukunft factions of the youth locals also had dozens of fiery flags that were a true adornment.

Several weeks before the First of May, in all our locations, the “meetings to prepare” took place, the so-called “First of May Masuvkes,” or pre-First of May meetings. These took place in Warsaw every year by the score, if not by the hundreds. Every local of a union, every youth local, every party group, every organization that was in any way connected to the Bund movement, held its own pre-First of May meeting. On the last Saturday before the First of May, the Warsaw Bund’s Central Committee organized a central, pre-First of May final meeting in a large public hall.

All these preparatory meetings had a political character. The current political situation in Poland and the world was discussed. The political slogans that were being put forward were underscored in order to give the imminent demonstration a more militant, political character. A secondary purpose—or perhaps even the first task—of these meetings was of course to move the Jewish workers—despite the enemies’ threats, with nobody knowing if they would emerge from the demonstration in one piece—to participate en masse in the Bund’s First of May demonstration. All these countless pre-First of May meetings achieved their goal: even in the worst of times, when attacks by the police or hooligans were almost certain to occur, many thousands participated in the Bund’s First of May demonstrations.

Figure 101. Bundist youth marching under red flags. From the Archives of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York.

At the same time, we were vigorously preparing to protect the demonstration from hostile provocations and attacks. Our demonstration was threatened from three directions: from the police, who waited for the slightest excuse to disperse us, in the process delivering vicious blows; from the organized and extremely antisemitic groupings, who wanted to settle accounts with the Bund; and finally, from the Communists, who would try to insert themselves into our demonstration to create a disturbance and in this way destroy and bring to naught a Socialist demonstration. To protect the demonstration from all attacks on open streets was a difficult task. Our militia had to be well prepared for this, and a much larger force than usual was necessary. For every First of May demonstration, therefore, we mobilized a large number of party members and Tsukunftists, also recruiting some of the militiamen from the various unions. By the end of the 1930s, when the Warsaw Bund’s demonstrations had reached 20,000 participants, we were deploying a 2,000-man militia.

We divided the entire militia into several groups. One group, the largest, formed a line on both sides along the whole length of the procession—a militiaman at every tenth rank. A second group marched at the head of the procession, and a third at the end. A fourth group was mobile, marching at some distance from the head of the procession, taking up a position at an approaching intersection, where there was the danger of an attack from a side street. In addition we had a “motorized” group of Militiamen, riding mostly on bicycles, with a smaller group on motorcycles, and sometimes in automobiles as well.

They rode on the street at some distance ahead, farther ahead than the mobile group. They studied the surrounding streets to see if a large cluster of police wasn’t hiding there, or to see if perhaps hooligans weren’t gathering in a suspicious manner, or whether or not the Communists hadn’t gathered in a certain spot and were getting ready to tear into the procession. They continually reported back what was going on in the surrounding neighborhoods.

Figure 102. Bundist youth marching under red flags, Warsaw. From the Archives of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York.

Figure 103. National Convention of Bundist youth, June 10–11, 1932, Warsaw. From the Archives of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York.

Figure 104. National Convention of Bundist youth, June 10–11, 1932, Warsaw. From the Archives of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York.

We also had a special group of scouts who mixed with the crowd on the “Polish” streets, eavesdroping on their talk, especially among the little circles standing on the streets and corners. For this we had to use people who looked “Polish” and who spoke Polish well. The most important among these were Renia Jarecka (later Pizhic, about whom I have already spoken); Ruta Rutman (later Perenson), a rich girl and student; Sarah Joelson (the daughter of the Bundist activist Jona Joelson), then a medical student and active in Morgenshtern, now a doctor in London, her father now in New York; and Josef Gutgold, who could pass as a Polish youth, and others.

Josef Gutgold one time even took over the leadership of a group of anti-semitic students as they were waiting at the gate to the University of Warsaw to attack the Bund demonstration about to march by, tricking them into running down a side street.

The night before the First of May the Jewish slums were nervous and tense, but at the same time festive and in a holiday mood. There was hardly a Jewish worker’s home where at least one son or daughter wasn’t marching tomorrow, not to mention the homes where the father, his sons and daughters, and sometimes also the mother weren’t preparing for tomorrow’s demonstration. There were more people than usual milling about on the streets. There was lots of commotion around the offices of the unions and the party. Every room and cubbyhole was occupied, even in the corners and corridors one could sometimes see small groups of people seated in a circle, bending toward each other, with their backs to the crowds around them—engrossed in the final stages of the preparations for the First of May. The militia groups were getting their final instructions. Many of the flag bearers took the flags home with them that night for fear the police might break into the offices and confiscate them or rip them up. With great reverence, they would hide the flags under their coats and quickly run home with them.

Figure 105. National Convention of Bundist youth, June 10–11, 1932, Warsaw. From the Archives of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York.

The offices emptied early that night. People would run home as soon as the last minute preparations were complete—any later, and they ran the chance of being arrested. On the night before the First of May, the police would carry out many arrests on the streets seeking “Communists”—and which poorly clad worker didn’t look to the police like a “Communist?” One would of course be set free after a few days, but in the meantime, one would lose the opportunity to take part in the great, festive workers holiday—so people hurried home and waited eagerly for the morning to come.

By six o’clock in the morning on the First of May, the celebratory atmosphere was already evident on the street. The streetcars and buses were not running because the union of the workers who ran them was on strike (they began running again around two o’clock in the afternoon, when the demonstrations were over). Quite early in the morning one could see boys and girls dressed in blue shirts or blouses and red neckerchiefs—these were our young Bundists, Tsukunftists, hurrying to their assembly points. A little later adults would start to appear, sometimes families, or groups of friends or coworkers.

The festive appearance of the street was heightened by the fact that in practically all the workshops there was no work being done and there were no clerks in the shops. For an organized worker to work on the First of May was not only a breach of discipline, but also a disgrace, a dishonor. For such a breach a Bundist or a Tsukunftist would be immediately expelled. A member of a union was also disciplined for such a breach, unless he confirmed beforehand that he worked in a nonunion shop and could lose his job if he took the day off—in that case he was granted permission to work on the First of May. Every union sent inspection groups to check the workshops and make sure no one was working.

A little later large groups of workers would begin filling the streets. By ten in the morning the various unions and organizations had already gathered at their various assembly points. They organized themselves into columns, lifting their flags and banners, and marching to the central assembly point. Some of the unions marched to the assembly point with their marching bands (the Printers Union, the Bakers Union, and the Meat Workers Union). After a short mass meeting, the Bund May Day procession began its march.

I don’t know if I have the power to describe even to a small degree how imposing, how beautiful, how festive the great Warsaw Bund’s May Day parade was and what energy and happiness radiated from it. In the very front marched a strong contingent of militiamen, youths especially selected for their strength, wearing red armbands, the word “Bund” emblazoned on them. Behind them was the flag of the Bund’s Central Committee—a huge flag that shimmered and shone in the May sun with its red satin and red braid and golden embroidered letters: “General Jewish Labor Bund in Poland, Central Committee.” Behind this flag marched the members of the Central Committee, prominent among them the proud figures of Comrades Noyekh, Erlich, and Alter. All three were tall, slim, and majestic: Noyekh with his grey head of hair and his grey moustache; Erlich with his good-natured face and small, pointy beard; Alter with his vitality and energy.

Also Michalewicz, the shortest of the group (1928 was his last time in the May Day demonstration), was particularly impressive with his silvery-grey head of hair and his proud bearing. Everyone’s notice was drawn to them. Following the Polish Bund’s Central Committee, marched the members of the Bund’s Warsaw Central Committee; and following them came the unions, each union carrying its flag aloft, some of them, as I already mentioned, with their own marching band.

The Youth-Bund Tsukunft occupied the middle of the procession. It was the most eye-catching, colorful part of the demonstration. Besides the usual red flags, the Tsukunft also had dozens of militant pennants, each group of Tsunkftists with its own pennant. These “fighting pennants” were made with red linen, without any inscription, stretched onto a light bamboo pole. In even the slightest breeze, these pennants fluttered and waved. These fighting pennants were all carried behind the main Tsukunft flag, four in a row, across the entire width of the street, scattered thinly and separated one row from the other by several long paces. In the late thirties, when the Warsaw Tsukunft numbered about one hundred separate groups of youngsters, this forest of 100 fighting pennants made an exhilarating sight. Right behind the Tsukunft pennants came several dozen little flags carried by the SKIF circles, held aloft by the older children: little, tri-cornered red flags embroidered with the names of each group. The very youngest children were not taken along to the demonstration—no one knew what might happen. Following the display of flags came the Tsukunft chorus, considered one of the best Jewish choruses in all of Poland. Its rhythmic song echoed in the streets. In the middle of the young people’s procession marched Morgnshtern, some of their units in sports outfits. The Bundist academic, university students group, Ringen (“Links,” as in a chain), also marched with the young people. In the thirties, the various youth groups in the procession numbered about 4,000 young people: Tsukunftists, Morgnshterners, young trade union members, and the others.

The whole Bundist May Day procession stretched for miles and occupied many streets at a time. The streets were lined with people. At least 100,000 people watched the Bund’s parade.

The Pilsudski regime trod with quick strides to its dictatorial destiny. As early as 1928 the relations between the labor movement and the Pilsudski camp were strained. The Warsaw PPS was on the brink of a split.

In that year—1928—during the First of May celebration at Warsaw’s Plac Teatralny, a fierce battle took place between the Communists and the PPS. The Communists wanted to force their way into the PPS procession and carry out one of their familiar “joining in brotherhood with the working masses over the heads of their leaders.” The PPS put up a strong resistance. Terrible fighting broke out, with gunfire. Dozens of wounded fell, and also several dead. Police immediately interfered, but instead of halting the fighting, they beat people left and right, further inflaming the riot. The Bund procession stood at the opposite corner of the gigantic square at the farthest remove from the battle, but the police could not resist the temptation: people are being beaten, and the kikes should not receive any blows? So they took the opportunity to get back over to the Bund columns and honor them with a goodly number of blows.

But this was not enough. Later, the police fell upon our demonstrators a second time. The Bundist demonstration, following the plan, marched out of Plac Teatralny to Przejazd Square where the Bund’s Workers Corner was located, and there the Bund ended its demonstration. The marchers quietly began to disperse. In the house on Przejazd 9, the Warsaw Bund had two locales: At the entrance, on the first floor, was the Bund Club (the Arbeter Vinkl—Workers Corner) and the Party Secretariat; on the ground floor, with windows facing the courtyard, was the Bund’s women’s organization, YAF. After the demonstration was over we usually stored all the flags, pennants, and banners temporarily in these two locations. The courtyard was still full of people—flag bearers, banner carriers, militiamen, and others—who were tarrying in the courtyard. Suddenly the police burst into the courtyard, closed the gate, entered the YAF locale where the flags and banners were placed, and began murderously beating whomever they came upon. They badly beat Herman Kruk—who was at that time Secretary of the Culture Department for the Central Committee of Tsukunft—as well as Benyomin Kijewsky, one of our most active militiamen, splitting his skull—he had to spend a long time in the hospital. Operated on several times, he remained crippled for the rest of his life, and to this day is virtually incapacitated for work (he now lives in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil).

I quickly came running with Victor Alter. We had been at the editorial offices of the Folkstsaytung, only a few minutes away from Przejazd 9. We complained vehemently to the police. They answered that it was a “mistake.” Since they saw a large crowd in the courtyard of Przejazd 9, they thought it was an illegal meeting, because there had been no permit issued for a meeting in the courtyard. This was, of course, a cynical excuse. In the morning Comrades Erlich and Alter lodged a strong protest against the government.

A police attack on the Bund’s May Day demonstration occurred again in 1929, a year later. Our First of May demonstration set out as usual from its central assembly point on Nalewki 34. At first, the demonstration went on without any disturbance at all. It proceeded through a series of streets, passed part of Senatorska, onto Plac Teatralny, bordered on two sides by Senatorska and Bielańska, marched into Bielańska, and continued onto Tłomackie and Leszno. Suddenly as the tip of the procession had reached the beginning of Leszno, still at Plac Teatralny, mounted police tore into the middle of the procession with a wild gallop. At the same moment, police on foot and civilian hooligans attacked our procession and cut off the part of the procession that was still in Plac Teatralny. This stormy attack came so unexpectedly that near the church next to City Hall, people were falling over each other. Also on Bielańska Street a heap of people lay who had fallen on top of each other.

After a moment, Pinchas Schwartz and I both sprang out into the middle of the street and began shouting at the police:

“What are you doing?”

“Who are you?” they asked angrily.

So we identified ourselves: Schwartz as the correspondent for the Folkstsaytung and I as the person responsible for the procession. This stopped the police; they no longer were chasing people, and the ranks of our processions reformed themselves. At that moment another group of mounted police galloped into the crowd. We again stopped them, arguing with them. In the meantime the procession reformed and began with quick steps to catch up with the first part of the procession. Our procession was so long that the front part of the procession did not know what was happening in the middle.

A little farther, on Leszno Street, another incident occurred, this time it was the Communists. A group of Communists, concentrated on the sidewalk, began shouting, “Down with the Social Fascists.” Among some of our demonstrators, especially among those who had just been so brutally scattered and trampled upon by the police, this evoked tremendous rage. Normally our Militiamen were disciplined people. They had been warned not to let themselves be provoked, and normally they strictly observed this instruction. But this time the patience of one of the Militiamen, indeed one of those who had just been attacked by the police, exploded. He broke ranks and with his stick threw himself on the Communist abusers. I ran and pulled him back into his column.

Figure 106. Bund May Day demonstration, Nowy Dwor, Poland, ca. 1930. From the Archives of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York.

This was perhaps the only time a Bundist in a demonstration allowed himself to be provoked by a Communist. Usually during our demonstrations we did not react to Communist verbal abuse so as not to give the police an excuse to break up our demonstration. Our strategy in such a situation was quite clear: as long as the Communists just shout and raise a racket, but do not tear into our procession, we would not react!