The Polish diaspora in the Alsace region. Photographed for posterity

The Polish diaspora in the Alsace region in photographs – historical context
 

The story of the Polish migrants who settled in the potash basin (Bassin Potassique) in the Alsace region is a fascinating example of economic migration. For researchers in this field, photographs play a key role as a valuable source of historical knowledge. Although the images of the Polish diaspora in the Alsace are mainly group photos and genre scenes, they contain a wealth of interesting information. Analysis of these photographs should not be limited to superficial descriptions such as “a group of people standing in front of buildings”; rather, a historical interpretation is required. Otherwise, the photographs would simply be visual artefacts without any deeper meaning. For this reason, it is especially important that researchers and archivists attempt to understand the images in their historical context.

A large number of Poles decided to move to the Alsace region due to the hardships that they were suffering. Here, the recollections of the first migrants are particularly worth examining. Although they were provided with accommodation, the furnishings turned out to be very basic. Here is a short description by one migrant: “(...) two beds, a mattress, two blankets, a cupboard. In the kitchen, a small commode, a table, two chairs and a stool, a cast iron oven, 25 kilogrammes of coal and three logs of wood.” It is particularly interesting that the conditions in which they lived are described in such detail. The Polish migrants can remember everything very clearly, since for them, who literally arrived empty-handed, every detail was of great importance. The reports show that initially, they were given 25 Francs to cover their basic needs – “bread, salt and lard”. A former miner provides detailed information about the amounts of money they later received with the precision of an accountant: “These 25 Francs had to last from the 4th to the 15th every month. On the 15th, we were given an advance payment of 108 Francs...”[10]

The initial period after their arrival was particularly tough. The new tools and working methods, combined with the unfamiliar culture, presented huge challenges to the miners. They were required to perform their new tasks without any form of induction, and with just short, gruff orders in a language they didn’t understand.

The administration at the potassium plant introduced a wage deduction system for the maintenance of the miners’ houses. If a house showed no sign of damage after a year, the inhabitants were paid the money back. Despite having access to all the “achievements of civilisation” available at the time, the migrants’ lives were often anything but comfortable. The temperature in the mines was between 40 and 50 degrees Celsius, causing the miners to faint. At first, the greatest cause for concern among the miners was that they might suffer an accident. However, in time, their focus of attention turned to the challenge of continuing to work in the unbearable heat.[11] After the end of their shift, many Polish miners helped the local farmers with the potato, grain or hay harvest and in picking the grapes. There, they were particularly valued for their scything skills. They were often paid in kind, in the form of food to feed themselves and their families. During the crisis years in the 1930s, this additional source of income was particularly welcome.[12]

The economic crisis of the 1930s had a dramatic impact on the Polish diaspora. Thousands of migrants lost their jobs. From 1934–1935, there was a wave of mass migration back home to Poland. The behaviour of the French miners, who showed no interest in the plight of their Polish colleagues, and who in some cases were even happy at the prospect of purchasing the furniture they left behind at a cheap price, engendered a deep sense of isolation and disappointment.[13] 

Relations between the Polish immigrants and the French miners were often tense. The cultural and economic differences between them created a strong sense of rivalry. In the words of one Polish miner: “They already had ownership of their farms, while we were poor and had no choice.” It was only very rarely that friendships developed between Poles and the French, and mixed marriages were almost unheard of. Even on St. Barbara’s day, the only Alsatians who took part in the celebrations were those who were close friends with the Poles. When it came to relations between the Polish and French miners, the difference between “us” and “them” was palpable. There was a clear divide between the local population and the immigrants – those who were already part of Alsatian society and those who first had to battle to gain acceptance there. The older miners were often indifferent to the rejection and enmity they experienced. However, their families, particularly their wives and children, often suffered as a result. Conflicts with the French miners, who now formed a minority in the mines, were inevitable. The Polish miners were forced to perform the harshest tasks, and as a result, they tried to gain promotion in order to receive better wages for their work.[14] 

Integration into the working environment often took the form of “familiar irony”. One sign that someone had been accepted by the others was if they were given a nickname that also emphasised the individual nature of that particular person. One miner, for example, who had won a sheep in a lottery, was given the nickname “Bé”. Another, meanwhile, who was proud of having served in the Polish air force in 1919, became known as “Awiator”.[15] 

Knowledge of the language was key for forming relationships. Many Polish miners were unable to speak sufficient French even after living in France for many years. In the mines, they spoke mainly Polish or Alsatian; at the same time, many businesspeople even started learning Polish in order attract a Polish clientèle. This linguistic isolation made it harder to integrate, but at the same time, it also strengthened the sense of belonging within one’s own community.[16] In this respect, Polish-language newspapers played an important part in maintaining national identity. For many migrants, the Polish-language press served not just as a source of information, but also as a way of preserving their contact with Polish culture.[17]

Outside of work, life among the Polish migrants played out mainly in closed enclaves, with each nation living in its own separate “colony”. The only recorded exception is an Italian immigrant who settled in the Polish quarter. This social segregation was somewhat mitigated by religious practices, however, which acted as a kind of binding agent which held the Poles together in the foreign environment. Many miners drew strength, solace and the feeling of belonging from their Catholic faith, regular attendance of church mass and participation in pilgrimages. Saint Barbara, patron saint of the miners, was regarded as a constant companion, who ensured their safety. The Polish clergy not only played an important part in religious life, but also in the social fabric of the community. They acted as arbiters when conflicts arose, advised the members of the community on family matters, and organised life within the diaspora. In times of difficulty, they were invaluable and in everyday life, their authority contributed to the preservation of a harmonious community atmosphere. One of the most important events in the calendar was the annual pilgrimage to the Basilica of Our Lady of Thierenbach. The pilgrimage was more than just a religious act, since it provided an opportunity to meet other Poles living throughout the Alsace and Lorraine regions. The joint festivities were also a manifestation of Polish identity, a harking back to their roots and a sense of connection to their homeland.[18]

Robert Czarnowski, September 2025