My visit to Poland was driven largely by a desire to go to Auschwitz-Birkenau. Saying this to a friend left them a little uneasy, asking (quite reasonably) why would you ‘want’ to go there. That’s not a question I can readily answer. I have no connection to the place. Whilst I'm told there is some Germanic and some Romani blood in the family, It comes from many generations before the war and the camps. I do not know Auschwitz, it does not know me. And yet I had to go.
When I talk about the importance of museums one of the key factors I discuss is the sense of place and there are few places in the world that can convey it in quite the same way. Many historic sites are memorialised because they are sites of tragedy and death. But no other feels quite so close, so large, and so real.
The closest I have got before is the Anne Frank House which uses its thoughtfully empty rooms to tell a part of the same story. And perhaps Auschwitz could have been empty too, with just the power of the knowledge of what happened on that ground just on the edge of living memory. However, time is not kind to memory so the stories we tell and how they are told is important.
Getting to Auschwitz
Getting to the physical location is perhaps appropriately enough something of a dedication you have to make. Located a good hour or so’s drive from any major city and with reasonable but not amazing public transport links to visit is a whole day affair that takes either some significant logistics or signing up with a tour group.
In my case I chose the latter which came with a bus driving you to and between the two locations as well as a tour guide. And a tour guide is very much welcome at Auschwitz (as with most other museums in Poland) as the place itself does not offer a great deal of information.
Image of the Famous Auschwitz Gates reading ‘Work Will Set You Free’ (Image from The National WW2 Museum)
However this was also the issue with my trip. To be frank, our tour guide wasn’t very good. Her English was fine, but she kept repeating information in uninteresting ways. Making points that didn’t really go anywhere and just all in all telling a poor story.
This of course can’t be put against the museum itself. She was (best I can tell) completely unaffiliated, and employed by the tour company. But it is always a risk with any tour guide that how good they are can really make or break an experience.
A Powerful Place
Despite my own personal disappointment with my guide the museum itself stands as a power symbol and reminder of what was done.
For now at least the main camp is largely preserved and much of the rest stands as a kind of stable ruin. Whilst the site was designated as a memorial almost immediately after the war with exhibitions opening as early at 1955 the Polish economy was little able to support full scale preservation efforts and much of it rotted away.
This leads to what was for me the most striking image of the houses on the vast Birkenau camp. Made from wood they have all now rotted away leaving only the meager brick chimney. They stretch on seemingly endlessly, each one representing a huddled mass of more than a hundred people crammed into them who would constantly churn as the dead were replaced by the living.
Image of the rows of chimneys in the Birkenau Camp (Image from Atlas Obscura)
And those people of course had escaped being immediately gassed in the chambers on arrival. The chambers themselves were blown up by the Nazi’s before they abandoned the camp and stand themselves as a powerful relic of the horrors that occurred there.
What Can You Do With A Place Like Auschwitz
Trying to do anything with a place like Auschwitz will always cause controversy and both is moral and legal definition as a cemetery and memorial means anything done has to be done with the greatest of respect. Even the gift shop limits its selection to just books.
To this end then there are two main thing that the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum offers beyond just preserving the place. The first is the rooms showing the piles of things looted from the arriving jews. Shoes, Suitcases, Glasses, even hair. Presented mutely in staggeringly large piles as an attempt to convey in some small way the sheer scale of the tragedy.
The other is similar. Any visit starts with a tunnel you must walk through where a voice reads out a list of names of people killed there. This list is presumably near endless and it is a powerful sign to go along with the walls of photographs of people saying simply the date they arrived, and the date they died.
Perhaps one small suggestion, but on the way out you walk through a similar tunnel (it passes under a road between the entrance and the camp itself) which is conspicuously silent. I think that if the list is read there too it might help convey the message that such a list never stops, not for the whole time you are visiting and not for a great deal longer after that.