On a gift from Josef – Nadia Pantel in Der Spiegel:
‘When it was opened in 1955, it was the eighth tallest building in the world. The Palace of Culture in Warsaw isn’t as tall as it is, though, due to a lack of space on the ground. But because it is supposed to inspire awe in those who behold it. When construction began in 1952, most of the buildings and streets of the city still lay in ruins as a result of the German occupation during World War II. And right in the middle of the rubble, a tower was planted – one which some still describe as it may have been meant: a gigantic middle finger. An imperial gesture of superiority, a so-called gift of friendship from Soviet ruler Josef Stalin himself.’
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‘The Eiffel Tower may be better known, the Colosseum older and the Tower of Pisa definitely more crooked. But none of those structures has more to say about Europe’s recent history than the Palace of Culture. About the trauma of war and of reconstruction, about annihilation at the hands of the Germans, about Russian aggression and Polish resistance. About the wild years of 1990s capitalism and about how Polish civil society fought against the vapid nationalism of the PiS government.’
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‘Eight palace cats keep the rodent population in check. Behind the cat bathroom is the entrance to an improvised museum. A member of the administration has set up some display cases containing things like the scissors used to cut through the red ribbon on the day the palace was opened. There is also a guestbook with an entry from 1956: "Everyone is overwhelmed by this magnificent structure.”’
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‘In 2015, after the election victory of the right-wing populist party PiS, the palace became something of a polestar for the opposition. On the vast square in front of the building, a reinvigorated women’s movement demonstrated against the abortion ban and in favor of the rule of law. The palace façade became a screen on which the rainbow flag was projected, or a red lightning bolt, the symbol of the "women’s strike.” In 2017, the protest turned dark, with the self-immolation of Piotr S., 54, on the square out front. He wanted it to be seen as an act of protest against the PiS government. After the coalition led by Tusk took the reins of government in 2023, the building was lit up in red and white, which normally only happens on national holidays. In addition, the tower announced on its Facebook page: "It is time for a happy Poland.”’
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‘How could such a hated structure become a city landmark? How was this tower able to shake off its history in a country that is obsessed by historical narratives? It is a question that plagued the British-Polish anthropologist Michał Murawski to such a degree that in 2009, he took an office in the palace for half a year. He explored the building as though it were a foreign continent. In 2019, Murawski published the book "The Palace Complex: A Stalinist Skyscraper, Capitalist Warsaw, and a City Transfixed,” which traced how the residents of Warsaw have been damned to a zigzag path of rejection and attraction when it comes to their relationship to the palace.’
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‘"The building landed here like a completely alien object,” says city planner Wojciech Kacperski. He shows images of the Warsaw city center prior to World War II. The site where the palace now stands was the most densely populated neighborhood in the metropolis. Soviet city planners referred to it as a "bourgeoisie quarter,” which was intended as an insult. The buildings that survived the Nazi onslaught were bulldozed and their owners expropriated. "We are still trying to gain an understanding of everything that disappeared,” says Kacperski.’
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‘On January 18, 1945, one day after the Red Army declared the city’s liberation, Sigalin drove through the city, describing it as follows: "All of the buildings are destroyed, streetcars lie on their sides, notes are hanging on gates that were once the entrances to buildings. In former courtyards there are crosses, crosses. The cemetery wall seems unnecessary, it no longer divides the living from the dead.” Warsaw, today a city of 1.9 million, lost 700,000 residents during World War II.’
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‘In May of this year, Małgosia Bela and Anja Rubik once again stood in front of the Palace of Culture, adopting the same pose of casual insouciance. Their white T-shirts were printed with "June 9” in bright red color. The date of the European elections. Bela posted the photo to Instagram as a call for voters to head to the polls. And the tower took on a new role: that of influencer.’
Read the article here.
In the end, even buildings will be influencers.
And yes, it’s time for a happy Poland.
Democracy and the promise of happiness? Dictators promise also happiness. Christians promise happiness to everybody, well it depends on the church of course.
And the cats, from the Hemingway House in Key West to the Palace of Culture in Warsaw, the cats are there.