Marian Turski, a revered Auschwitz survivor who dedicated his life to combating societal indifference and preserving Jewish history, has died at 98. A co-founder of Warsaw’s POLIN Museum and a vocal advocate for minority rights, Turski’s passing marks the loss of one of history’s most compelling moral voices.
Turski endured unimaginable horrors during the Holocaust, surviving the Lodz ghetto, Auschwitz-Birkenau, and two death marches. He lost 39 relatives to Nazi persecution, yet chose to remain in postwar Poland as a journalist and historian. His decision to rebuild a socialist state sparked controversy, but his work at the POLIN Museum became a cornerstone of Jewish-Polish reconciliation.
In his later years, Turski gained global recognition for a stark warning at Auschwitz’s 75th anniversary:
‘The Holocaust did not fall from the sky—it began with small acts of discrimination.’He implored societies to reject indifference when minorities face bias, history is distorted, or governments violate social contracts.
Critics accused Turski of politicizing Auschwitz commemorations, particularly during Poland’s right-wing governance (2015–2023). Supporters, however, hailed his courage in drawing parallels between historical atrocities and modern divisive policies. President Andrzej Duda acknowledged his contribution, stating: ‘He cultivated sensitivity to evil until his final days.’
Turski’s legacy includes three transformative calls to action:
- Reject historical revisionism and antisemitism
- Protect marginalized communities from systemic discrimination
- Challenge authoritarian overreach in governance
Born Mosze Turbowicz in 1926, Turski nearly died from typhus after liberation but became a prominent communist figure. While his political affiliations drew scrutiny, his museum work fostered dialogue, attracting over 2 million visitors annually to explore 1,000 years of Jewish Polish history.
In his last public address, Turski reminded the world that survivors’ voices are dwindling: ‘We were always a minority. Now, only a handful remain.’ His life stands as a testament to resilience—and a urgent warning against complacency in the face of hatred.
