Documentary about Jews killed by their Polish neighbors after the Holocaust could be banned in Poland.

 

Director Yoav Potash greets Yaacov Goldstein

A documentary about the murder of five Jews in a Polish town is being threatened with a ban in Poland - not because they were killed in the Holocaust, but because they weren’t.

The Jews at the heart of "Among Neighbors," from California-based filmmaker Yoav Potash, died six months after the end of Nazi occupation. They were among a handful of survivors from Gniewoszów, a town where about 1,500 Jews made up half the population before World War II. When they returned home in 1945, they were killed by their Polish neighbors.

Since premiering at the Warsaw Jewish Film Festival in November 2024, "Among Neighbors" has been screened in six countries and qualified for Academy Award consideration. But its release on TVP, the Polish public broadcaster, has prompted uproar from right-wing politicians and a national investigation.

Potash stumbled into making "Among Neighbors" on a 2014 trip to Gniewoszów, where he planned to document a modest rededication ceremony for the Jewish cemetery. As he began talking with the oldest residents, one woman, who has since died, told him that Jews were killed there well after the war.

"That just really struck me as a very different kind of story, because it was not the Germans doing the killing, it was the Poles," said Potash. "It was not during the war, it was well after, when it should have been a time of peace."

When "Among Neighbors" appeared on televisions across Poland in November 2025, it was hit with backlash from the office of Polish President Karol Nawrocki, a right-wing historian who led nationalist efforts to rewrite Poland’s Holocaust history. His Law and Justice party, which governed Poland from 2015 to 2023, promoted historical narratives about Polish victimhood and resistance to the Nazis while delegitimizing research on Polish antisemitism or Poles who killed Jews.

Prime Minister Donald Tusk now leads the Polish government with a centrist coalition, but Nawrocki has been a counterweight to Tusk since he was elected last year.

Six days after "Among Neighbors" aired on TVP, Agnieszka Jędrzak, a minister in Nawrocki’s office, attacked the broadcaster on X. Calling the documentary "historical anti-Polish manipulation," she said "a television station that has ‘Polish’ in its name should not be broadcasting it."

Jędrzak oversees state awards and Polish diaspora relations. Before joining the president’s office, she spent 15 years working at the Institute of National Remembrance - previously headed by Nawrocki - which gained a reputation for advancing nationalist narratives about the Holocaust. According to Jędrzak’s government profile, she led the IPN as it "responded to defamatory statements which damaged the reputation of Poland and the Polish nation."

A probe into "Among Neighbors" launched after the Ordo Iuris Institute, a far-right Catholic think tank, filed a complaint with the National Broadcasting Council, comparable to the Federal Communications Commission in the United States.

The narrative presented in the documentary film ‘Among Neighbors’ clearly undermines values ​​important to Poles, such as historical truth," the institute said in November. "Above all, the film creates a false image of Poles as a nation co-responsible for the German genocide of Jews during World War II. What is particularly outrageous is the fact that the production was released by Polish Television."

The National Broadcasting Council responded by opening an investigation into the film.

"Among Neighbors" was made over the course of a decade that largely spanned the Law and Justice regime. In 2018, the country passed a law that outlawed accusing Poland or the Polish people of complicity in Nazi crimes. The infraction has since been downgraded from a crime punishable with prison time to a civil offense, but the law remains in effect.

For Potash, reactions to the film from right-wing nationalist officials were "not surprising at all."

"They have adopted this mindset where there’s an almost sacred sense that Poles during World War II were either victims or heroes," he said. "Any story that anyone tells that contradicts that, or that adds that some Poles were perpetrators, is anathema to that."

TVP has stood by the film and continues to air it. The network has been backed by the Jewish Historical Institute of Poland and the POLIN Museum of the History of Polish Jews, whose representatives sent a letter of support to the TVP Program Council’s chair, Barbara Bilińska.

"Among Neighbors" unfolds around a man and a woman who grew up in Gniewoszów. In the last breaths of their lives, they seek to answer questions that have possessed them for 80 years - he as the Jewish child of Holocaust survivors who were killed in their hometown, and she as a Polish eyewitness to the murders.

In a statement, TVP said the reckonings of these two people were neither "anti-Polish" nor "a judgment of the entire Polish nation."

"We are open to dialogue regarding historical memory and believe that even difficult topics allow society to understand the fuller context of past events," said TVP. "As a public broadcaster, we have a duty to facilitate such conversation and not shy away from presenting those fragments of history that require reflection and civic courage."

Beyond Gniewoszów, "Among Neighbors" touches on a wave of murders that struck Jews returning home to cities and towns across Poland after liberation from the Nazis. In the most notorious instance, 42 Jews in the southeastern town of Kielce were killed by a mob of Polish residents, soldiers and police officers in July 1946. The Kielce pogrom convinced many survivors they had no future in Poland, spurring an exodus.

A film dramatizing the Kielce pogrom drew protests from Polish Americans, and the Berlin office of its Jewish producer was destroyed by an arson in 1996, the same year the Polish government formally apologized for the pogrom.

"Among Neighbors" confronts the simultaneous intimacy and violence woven through small towns, where Poles lived and worked with Jews, where their children played with Jewish children, and where some Poles also killed their Jewish neighbors. That complex relationship still rests under the surface of skirmishes over Poland’s history.

Konstanty Gebert, a journalist interviewed in the film, compared the relationship between Poland and its Jews to the phenomenon of phantom limbs - the sensation that a body part remains attached after it has been amputated.

"Poland is still suffering from its Jewish phantom pains, and Jews are suffering from their Polish phantom pains," said Gebert. "Until those two amputated hands can actually shake - and I don’t know how you do that to amputated limbs - but I know that if you don’t, we’ll be still standing there, swallowing painkillers for a pain that cannot be relieved, because the amputated limb is gone and it still hurts."