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Keeping the spirit of Poland alive

Two anniversaries to do with the Polish government in exile

If the polls are to be believed, immigration is set to be one of the key topics of this May’s election and it looks as if the Poles, as one of the largest EU-migrant communities, will figure heavily in that debate. Already, last November, Mark Reckliss, the newly elected MP for Rochester, was asked his opinion on whether a Polish plumber would be allowed to stay in this country should we leave the EU – and became tangled up in his own response. So maybe it’s timely to reflect that it is 75 years this year since the Polish government in exile moved to London from Angers following the Nazi occupation of France, and 25 years since it handed back its regalia and constitution to Lech Walesa, the newly elected president of a newly democratic Poland.

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President Lech Wałęsa and President Ryszard Kaczorowski during the handover ceremony of the presidential insignia (Royal Castle, Warsaw, 1990)

The story of the government in exile is one that is little known in this country, but also one that few people in Poland were aware of in the Soviet era (for obvious reasons) and one that few of the Poles who arrived in this country after the new EU accession rules are familiar with either. Republic in Exile/Rzeczpospolita Londyńska, five videos commissioned by the Polish Embassy and recently completed by Agnieszka Chmura, does much to dispel that ignorance, interspersing photographs and film of the period with interviews with some of the people who lived through it. Last month saw the launch of these videos at a special screening at the Polish Hearth Club, which had been the significant meeting point for the Polish community in exile once the Polish Embassy itself had been occupied, after the war, by the representatives of the People’s Republic of Poland.

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Prime Minister Władysław Sikorski and Prime Minister Winston Churchill

The Poles were an active and influential force in the allied resistance to Hitler’s Germany: 14,000 of them served in the Royal Air Force, and to dramatic effect in the Battle of Britain; their soldiers and sailors served equally creditably in the allied army and navy; they played a decisive role in the breaking of the Enigma code; and they were among the first to alert the Allies to the Nazi plan to exterminate the Jews (despite a reputation for anti-semitism that didn’t always show them in a glorious light). But the Poland that they had left no longer existed – at the beginning of the war carved into two by Germany on the one side and the USSR on the other, and then at the end by the further political redrawing of boundaries; and the country that has re-appeared since the dismemberment of the Warsaw Pact in 1989 is different again from the one that they, or their parents, left in the 1940s. One of the many tragic aspects of this story is the determination with which Polish exiles kept alive the ideal of a Poland that bore increasingly scant resemblance to the reality of the country.

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President Władysław Raczkiewicz, the first president of the Polish government in exile, with the soldiers of the Polish Ist Armoured Division

With the end of the war, the Polish government in exile became something of an embarrassment, ‘Realpolitik’ making it more important for the British government to appease one ally, the Soviet Union, than to reward the other. With good reason to feel betrayed by the Allies they had so bravely supported, the vast majority of the Poles in this country (120,000 out of 160,000) nevertheless opted to remain here and accept naturalisation. And their government, though facing what looked to be a permanent exile, continued to meet every fortnight as a president and cabinet of eight members, and still commanded the respect of the large population of Polish war veterans and their descendants – nine people holding down a range of ordinary jobs in the daytime (in most cases without their workmates being aware of their other lives) and reconvening in the evenings as heads of state in waiting and ministers with the various offices of government.

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President Władysław Raczkiewicz with Stanisław Mikołajczyk’s government (London, 1943)

The British government, meanwhile, no longer officially recognised the government in exile but routinely sought its opinion and advice unofficially. And, in a similar way, the government in exile had no official involvement in any movement or organisation in Warsaw-Pact Poland, but unofficially provided support and materials, especially when the independent trade union Solidarity rose to prominence in 1980.

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President Ryszard Kaczorowski with the last government in exile (London, 1990)

Meanwhile, around the Polish community there grew up a service community to support it – Polish shops, delicatessens, pubs, restaurants, schools, churches, even a university – providing the cultural connection to the home country. At last month’s event, Andrzej Zakrzewski, adviser to the prime minister on youth in the mid-1970s, expressed his gratitude to the government in exile, and to the whole community that had supported it, for keeping the spirit of Poland alive. ‘For me,’ he said, ‘this has been their most important achievement. It is the reason why, despite having lived in this country all my life and probably sounding more English than Polish, I have remained in contact with that sense of my culture and am proud to think of myself as a Polish patriot.’

That sense of pride and the deep attachment to a no longer recognisable country leave many of the more recent arrivals from Poland bemused. Free, under the EU accession rules, to work here for as long as they feel inclined and to return to their country of birth when they so choose, they tend not to have the same fierce allegiance to Poland that their older compatriots do, nor the same sense of gratitude to Britain for taking them in. It makes for an interesting culture clash each time the two generations find themselves at the same event, and it is one that Agnieszka Chmura, among others, wants to address:

‘I had no idea, before coming here, that there was this generation of Polish migrants in this country. The two generations know so little about each other, and I’m hoping that this project will go some way to help them understand each other a bit more.’

 

With thanks to Konrad Jagodzinski, public relations specialist at the Embassy of the Republic of Poland, for sourcing the photos in this piece, and giving us permission to use them.

A child looks on as his elders pray in Hyde Park, August 2014

During a rally to bring attention to the situation in Gaza during Operation Protective Edge in August 2014, Muslim men take time out to pray. The young boy on the left behaves in typical child-like fashion, trying to gain his father’s (I make that assumption) attention and distract him from his prayer.

The New British/The New Londoners

The world in a city

 

“We are 35 in and have about 165 to go – I am committed to this project long term … but I think Nauru might prove a challenge!” exclaims Chris Steele-Perkins, explaining his project ‘The New Londoners’ to us from his base at Magnum Photos in Old Street, London.

Chris is a world-famous photographer who has works in the collections of the Tate, the Victoria and Albert Museum, and the National Portrait Gallery. He has decided to take portrait photographs of immigrant families (in the very different forms that families take) from every country in the world now residing in the greater London area – hence the “165 to go”. These portraits, at once both intimate and intriguing, are all made in these families’ homes, to give consistency and insight into their lives: a kind of ‘sitting room ethnography’ – anthropology of the 21st century in a city increasingly characterised by super-diversity.

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Ethiopian mother Gelaye Unwin, with her daughters Hannah (12) and Menron (11)

“This project started off with a focus on families originally from conflict zones settling in London, but as is often the way it has evolved thematically – I wanted it to encompass the phenomenon of migration more broadly.” A phenomenon Chris describes in the project blurb as a ‘seismic shift’ in our national landscape.

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Yousofi family, from Afghanistan, now living in Camden

 

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The Hellem family from Norway: mother (Monica), father (Aage) and daughter (Thea). Aage: ‘I think I see myself as Norwegian, but also more of a Londoner than an Englishman.’ Monica: ‘I think I am at a stage where I am annoyed by tourists – can I now define myself as a Londoner?!’

Chris is interested in the shift in mentality that accompanies urbanisation in an age of globalisation: “People start to see their identity more closely aligned with the city that they live in rather than the country within which that city is located.” Indeed, the interviews that are the backdrop for the growing group of portraits show a dialogue between photographer and subjects in which changing ideas of national identity, opinions about London, persistence of links back ‘home’ and future migratory plans are the unifying focus.

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Marching: wife, Indonesia Angus: husband, Australia Marching: ‘We were married in Australia. They tried to kick me out as I had cancer … ’ Angus: ‘That is part of the reason I love living here – I think this country has a much more humane and enlightened immigration policy than Australia does. The NHS is another thing that I am grateful to this country for.’ Marching is now in the clear.

The project has grown through word of mouth and adverts in foreign-language publications here in London. The warmth emanating from many of the quirky portraits – some natural and some more stylised – is testament to the strength of bonds between family members and trust in the skilled photographer these subjects have allowed into their homes and their lives.

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Marlena and sister Wioleta Wojttasik from Poland, with Marlena’s boyfriend, Chris Rossiter, in the girls’ flat. Marlena: ‘We have friends from different countries here: Bulgaria, from England, even from Jordan – many different nationalities.’ Wioleta: ‘I still think of myself as Polish because I can’t forget my background and family over there. In the future if I have my own child I will speak to them in Polish, even if I have an English husband … I would like to share my culture with my child.’

The grand plan is for this project to be curated as a record to the shifting cultural landscape of London at the start of the 21st century. Chris is in discussions with the British Library about the possibility of its ultimately archiving the fruits of his creative enterprise.

In the meantime, the mission to photograph people representing all 200 United Nations recognised nations (and a few extra besides) continues!

If you would like to participate in this project for free, and get a signed copy of your family to boot, or if you know someone else who might be an interesting fit, please get in touch with Chris and his team – he would love to hear from you!

More details:
http://chrissteeleperkins.com/portfolio/portraits/new-british/

Contact: chrissteeleperkins@hotmail.com

New book:
A Place in the Country: A year in the life of Holkham Estate in Norfolk, published by Dewi Lewis
Recent books:
Fading Light: A portrait of British centenarians, published by McNidder and Grace
England, My England, published by McNidder and Grace
Northern Exposures, published by McNidder and Grace
Tokyo Love Hello, published by Editions Intervalles

Available from selected bookshops and Amazon

site: http://chrissteeleperkins.com/              instagram: #steeleperkins

Linda Cremin, dancer/artist

I was born in Sofia in Bulgaria. I’ve been living in England since I was quite young but I’ve been travelling most of my young childhood life. As a child I travelled all over – my dad’s a Traveller, so we were in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Gaza, Germany and Bulgaria, and always going back to Bulgaria but we always had a base in Hackney and I’d do my schooling in Hackney. When I say to people I travelled as a kid they’re always ‘Wow, that’s so exciting’ but really I didn’t have many friends; it was very lonely. I didn’t really know what was going to happen from one minute to the next. I wanted to be normal like other kids, be in school and stay home for Christmas. That’s the downside but on the other hand I think it’s made me the person I am today, it’s been interesting, it’s made me take risks and be more culturally aware of everything I do. It’s all part of what I’ve grown up with.