Built in 1907, this monumental building was the pride of Poznań's Jewish community; today the ruin represents tragedy and neglect.

The fortunes of Poznań’s Jewish community peaked in the early 20th century with the building of a grand new synagogue to replace a complex of 16th-18th-century synagogues on Żydowska Street ('Jewish' Street), which the community themselves subsequently demolished. Designed by Berlin architects Cremer & Wolfenstein, the monumental Neo-Romanesque red brick structure held 1200 worshipers (600 men, 600 women), and featured a richly decorated interior, numerous copulas and a copper-plated dome. It was completed in 1907 - a few years before the Imperial Castle, which was under construction simultaneously; both were symbolic of Prussian prosperity, cost millions to build and became the dominating landmarks of their respective ends of town.

Ironically, Poznań had one of the smallest Jewish communities in Poland at the outbreak of World War II - only 1500-3000 people, or less than 1% of its population (most major Polish cities were 25-35% Jewish at that time). Due to their assimilation under Prussian rule, Poznań’s Jews didn’t support the Poles in the Wielkopolska Uprising, and when the city became Polish (and Catholic) again, a vast majority of them emigrated west to Germany, expecting greater tolerance there.

As we know, such tolerance evaporated under the German Nazi regime, which invaded and occupied Poznań in September 1939. The city itself had no wartime Jewish ghetto, instead deporting its Jewish population east to large ghettos in Łódź, Warsaw and other cities, and eventually to Nazi-run death camps.

When Poznań’s other synagogues were destroyed in 1939, the New Synagogue was gutted, its dome dismantled, and its interior converted into a swimming pool and rehabilitation centre for Nazi Wehrmacht officers. Cheeklily dubbed the ‘Swimagogue,’ it incredibly continued in this role until 2011, despite being reclaimed by the Jewish community in 2002. Plans for its restoration were often drawn, but failed to find sufficient funding over the years, and the Jewish community’s sale of the building to a developer in 2019 has likely sealed its fate. Although no works have yet been undertaken, permission has been granted for its conversion into apartments, and the building’s current slide into total ruin seems deliberate. Today Poznań’s last synagogue serves as a symbol not only of the tragedy of the Holocaust, but also the complete contemporary neglect of Poznań’s Jewish heritage.