The spread of disinformation has amplified old myths of “Jewish control” and “foreign influence,” often under the guise of political or anti-Israel sentiment. Campaigns such as Stop 447 and online conspiracy theories surrounding COVID-19, the war in Gaza, and Western “globalism” reveal how antisemitic narratives adapt to new crises. Although open violence is less common, incidents of harassment, vandalism, and verbal abuse have increased, creating a climate of unease for Jewish communities, especially those involved in education, remembrance, and cultural life.

Historical Roots of Exclusion and Manipulation

The relationship between Poland and its Jewish community has been defined by centuries of coexistence punctuated by episodes of hostility. Before and during the Second World War, antisemitism took two dominant forms: economic resentment—promoting boycotts of Jewish shops—and the ideological myth of żydokomuna, which falsely associated Jews with communism. When Nazi Germany invaded in 1939, these attitudes were exploited to facilitate genocide. Pogroms in Podlasie, mass deportations under Aktion Reinhard, and the destruction of ghettos such as Warsaw, Łódź or Kraków revealed how Nazi occupation weaponised existing prejudice to isolate and annihilate Poland’s Jews.

The war’s end did not erase antisemitism. Returning survivors faced hostility linked to property disputes and moral unease, culminating in violence such as the Kielce pogrom of 1946. In later decades, the communist regime manipulated antisemitism for political purposes—most notably during the “anti-Zionist” campaign of March 1968, when thousands of Jews were expelled from public life and forced into exile. These events cemented antisemitism as both a social prejudice and a political instrument, shaping the tone of public discourse well into the late 20th century.

Continuity Between Past and Present

Following the democratic transition of 1989, the liberalisation of public space allowed both honest reflection and renewed extremism. Antisemitic symbols and slogans appeared in football stadiums and public rallies, while some clerical and nationalist voices revived conspiratorial rhetoric about “Jewish influence” in politics or media. Debates about the wartime massacres in Jedwabne and Kielce revealed deep divisions within Polish collective memory—between efforts at truth-telling and reactions of denial or defensiveness. The 1990s also saw synagogue arson, vandalism, and street violence that exposed the enduring potency of prejudice beneath Poland’s democratic surface. Since joining the European Union in 2004, Poland has seen both progress and regression. Holocaust education and Jewish cultural renewal have expanded, yet antisemitism has adapted to the digital age. Hate speech, historical denial, and scapegoating flourish online, while acts such as the effigy burning in Wrocław (2015), the desecration of Jewish monuments, and attacks during commemorations demonstrate how old hatreds find new expression. Recent events—including the harassment of Jewish participants at Auschwitz remembrance in 2025 and online threats against family of tourists in Kraków—show that antisemitism continues to evolve with political moods and global crises. Confronting this continuum is therefore essential: Poland’s democratic maturity will be measured not only by remembrance of its Jewish past but by its courage to challenge prejudice in the present.

Misinformation & disinformation

“Jews secretly control governments, banks, and the media.”

A classic conspiracy narrative reframed as “global elites” or “hidden networks,” often pushed through memes, influencer clips, and “follow the money” threads. Disinformation accounts stitch unrelated facts into a single plot, implying Jews as the coordinating force behind democracy, capitalism, migration, or “the EU.” It launders antisemitism through coded language

(“bankers,” “Soros,” “Rothschilds”), making it harder to moderate while keeping the same scapegoating logic.

“Zionists run a ‘shadow government’ and must be resisted.”

This extremist trope recasts democratic institutions as occupied by Jews, portraying violence as “self-defence.” It spreads in fringe forums and cross-platform repost chains, then re-enters mainstream spaces as ironic slang or “anti-globalist” content. Disinformation tactics include selective screenshots, fake “leaked” documents, and mislabelled symbols to imply secret

Jewish command structures—turning political anger into an antisemitic worldview.

“The Protocols’ prove the Jewish plan to dominate the world.”

A known antisemitic forgery entitled ‘The Protocols of the Elders of Zion’, which fuelled the rise of antisemitism in Nazi Germany and Imperial Russia, is often repackaged as “suppressed history,” circulated via PDFs, subtitled videos, and “thread” summaries. Disinformation communities claim censorship as proof of truth, then connect the text to modern events (wars, markets, pandemics).

The manipulation lies in presenting a fabricated document as documentary evidence, and in using its storyline as a template to interpret any crisis as Jewish orchestration.

“Jews serve Israel over their home country.”

This narrative frames Jewish civic participation as suspect, often triggered by Middle East escalations. It spreads through “security” talk, loyalty tests, and insinuations about dual passports or “foreign influence.” Misinformation filters include cherry-picked examples of individual Jewish voices, then generalising them to all Jews. The move is rhetorical: it turns ordinary pluralism into “betrayal,” legitimising exclusion from public life and harassment.

Holocaust denial and relativisation

Denial content – that the Holocaust is exaggerated, invented, or ‘just history wars’ – circulates via “debunking” videos, fake statistics, and misused archival images, often paired with claims that remembrance is a Jewish power tool. Disinformation techniques include quote-mining historians, mistranslating documents, and presenting fringe “research” as scholarly debate. Even when framed as “questions,”

the aim is to erode shared factual ground and normalise antisemitic hostility by delegitimising Jewish trauma.

Blood libel: “Jews harm children or traffic organs.”

A medieval trope is modernised into claims about kidnapping rings, organ theft, or ritual harm – now spread via sensational “warning” posts and manipulated photos. Disinformation accounts exploit moral panic mechanics: urgent language, anonymous “insiders,” and calls to “protect children.” Filtering narratives detach the accusation from Jews explicitly – naming “Zionists” or “globalists” – while keeping the same allegation of inherently murderous Jewish nature.

The ‘Israel are Nazis’ heuristic

This appears as political commentary but functions as disinformation when it acts as a shortcut for the scapegoating of Jewish people or collapses history into a provocation that denies Jewish self-understanding and erases Nazi genocide. It spreads through viral comparison images and sloganised moral equivalence, often during conflict spikes. The key mechanism is ‘frame hijacking’, using Holocaust language to delegitimise Jewish identity and community safety, not to analyse policy.

“Jews created or profit from crises to reshape society.”

A flexible conspiracy container: any socioeconomic shock – for example, COVID, wars, migration – becomes evidence of a Jewish plot. Disinformation channels remix real anxieties with fabricated causality and scapegoats. Common tactics include forged “plans,” fake charts, and misattributed quotes, then amplification by coordinated networks. The narrative survives fact-checks because it constantly mutates – swapping actors and slogans while preserving the core antisemitic blame.

EXPLORE THE HISTORY OF ANTISEMITISM IN POLAND

2004 – 2024

EU ACCESSION & MEMBERSHIP

After EU accession, antisemitism in Poland evolved into a hybrid of political radicalism, online conspiracy, and cultural polarisation. Physical violence became rarer but symbolically charged—such as the 2006 pepper-spray attack on Chief Rabbi Michael Schudrich, the 2015 burning of a Jewish effigy in Wrocław, or the 2024 attempted arson of Warsaw’s Nożyk Synagogue. Hate speech increasingly migrated online and into nationalist street movements, as in ONR marches, anti-immigrant rallies, and anti-restitution protests.

The 2019 “Stop 447” campaign, organised by Konfederacja, exemplified the mainstreaming of antisemitic narratives under the guise of defending sovereignty. During the COVID-19 pandemic, antisemitic conspiracy theories flourished, linking Jews to “pharmaceutical plots” and global manipulation. The 2021 burning of the Kalisz Statute and the 2023 parliamentary desecration of a Hanukkah menorah by MP Grzegorz Braun revealed how hate speech had penetrated public office. Following the Gaza war of October 2023, antisemitism re-emerged through polarised discourse framed as “anti-Zionism,” echoing older European patterns of scapegoating. Despite growing awareness and education, these incidents demonstrate that antisemitism in Poland, while transformed, remains cyclically revived by political, ideological, and social tensions.

1989 – 2004

DEMOCRATISATION & TRANSITION

The democratic transition exposed dormant antisemitism and introduced new far-right subcultures. The 1991 neo-Nazi attack on the Nożyk Synagogue in Warsaw marked the first post-communist hate crime against a Jewish site. Through the 1990s, antisemitic incidents became recurrent—from vandalism and graffiti campaigns (“Jews to the gas,” “Down with Jewish rule”) to far-right rallies led by groups such as the National Rebirth of Poland (NOP) and the Movement for the Defense of the Polish Nation.

The proliferation of nationalist, skinhead, and football hooligan networks normalised hate speech in public spaces, as seen in the 1997–2000 wave of desecrations in Warsaw, Kraków, and Bielsko-Biała. Political figures such as Father Henryk Jankowski and Kazimierz Świtoń publicly recycled antisemitic conspiracies, while media outlets intermittently amplified myths of Jewish control and disloyalty. The rediscovery of historical truth—through debates over Jedwabne (2001) and Kielce—provoked intense backlash, as many Poles struggled to reconcile national heroism with complicity. Although the state condemned hatred and launched educational initiatives, symbolic and rhetorical antisemitism persisted, particularly in the form of public defacement, nationalist demonstrations, and extremist propaganda.

1945 – 1989

AUTHORITARIANISM & SURVEILLANCE

After 1945, antisemitism in Poland did not disappear; instead, it adapted to postwar realities. The return of survivors to towns like Kielce, Parczew, and Krościenko triggered violent attacks and pogroms, fuelled by property disputes and a refusal to confront wartime complicity. In 1946 alone, the Kielce pogrom (42 dead) became an international symbol of post-Holocaust antisemitism. Underground units such as those of Józef Kuraś “Ogień” or Jan Batkiewicz murdered Jewish refugees, often under the guise of anti-communist resistance. These crimes reinforced Jewish emigration, leaving Poland’s postwar Jewish community deeply diminished. Antisemitic violence declined in the 1950s, but an atmosphere of antisemitism persisted, culminating in the regime’s anti-Zionist campaign of 1968.

Under communist rule, antisemitism persisted in new ideological forms. The regime’s rhetoric formally condemned racism but exploited antisemitic themes during political crises. The 1967 army purges and the 1968 “anti-Zionist” campaign orchestrated by Władysław Gomułka and Mieczysław Moczar institutionalised antisemitism within the state apparatus, expelling thousands of Jews from universities, public service, and the country itself. Patriotic Union “Grunwald” established in 1981 fused nationalism with Marxist-Leninist orthodoxy, while antisemitic propaganda resurfaced during martial law to delegitimise the Solidarity movement. By 1989, open violence had largely ceased, but antisemitic attitudes—ranging from conspiracy to exclusion—remained embedded in political and social discourse.

1939 – 1945

WAR & GENOCIDE

Before World War II, antisemitism in Poland manifested through economic boycotts and the ideological myth of “żydokomuna” (Judeo-Communism). Jews were portrayed as both economic competitors and political enemies, accused of dominating trade or colluding with communism. When Nazi Germany invaded Poland on 1 September 1939, these pre-existing stereotypes became tools of occupation policy. Nazi authorities institutionalised racial segregation through Reinhard Heydrich’s decrees of September and October 1939 and the establishment of ghettos in Piotrków Trybunalski, Warsaw, Łódź and other places. Between 1939 and 1941 German occupiers committed first crimes of civilians including Poles and Jews. Pogroms (e.g. Jedwabne, Radziłów, Szczuczyn), reflected both German direction and local complicity.

From 1941 onward, the extermination of Jews was formalised under Aktion Reinhard, with mass deportations to camps such as Bełżec, Sobibór, Treblinka, Auschwitz and Majdanek. The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising of April 1943 symbolised Jewish resistance against annihilation, even as the liquidation of ghettos accelerated. Events like Aktion Erntefest in November 1943 and the liquidation of Majdanek and Auschwitz in 1944 – 45 marked the near-complete destruction of Polish Jewry. While Polish antisemitism was not the cause of the Holocaust, local prejudice and opportunism created conditions that the occupiers could exploit deepening isolation and obstructing rescue efforts amid the machinery of genocide.