Tracing the trailblazing lives of Poland’s first feminist activists

While Orzeszkowa would probably recognise many of the struggles facing Polish women today, she would also recognise such solidarity. In fact, for Polish women alive around the time of Orzeszkowa’s novel, the fight for women’s rights was equally active. Several influential early Polish feminists campaigned for women’s education, the right to vote, access to abortion, and supported sexual minorities long before these issues were widely known or accepted in society. And as a result, they had a significant and pioneering impact on Polish life and culture at the time. But whilst, in some cases, major progress was made for women’s rights in the late 19th and early 20th century, in other cases, the major dilemmas of 100 years ago are still playing out in today’s Poland. In fact, even though early women’s rights campaigners shaped Poland, the history of feminism and solidarity has generally been overlooked. With gender studies programmes coming under heavy fire from conservative campaigners in recent years, it looks like a trend that is set to continue.

The history of Polish feminism often starts with the prolific Klementyna Hoffmanowa (1798-1845), a novelist, children’s literature writer, teacher, and friend of Fryderyk Chopin, who — very unconventionally for her time — made a living from writing, as well as encouraging employment and education for women. With her emphasis on the need for female independence, Hoffmanowa took on a vital role within the Polish community, and even after she had she settled in France following the November Uprising - a Polish national revolt against the Russian empire in 1830 - she remained a prominent figure in women’s and wider cultural associations.

The situation changed in the 1880s, when the informal “Flying University” was established in Warsaw to provide clandestine education for young Poles, especially women. Founded by Jadwiga Szczawińska-Dawidowa and her husband Jan Władysław Dawid, and with leading academics on board, the “Flying University” provided informal lessons in a variety of locations across the city to evade the Russian authorities. More than 5000 Poles, male and female, attended courses at the university, including Maria Skłodowska-Curie.

By the late 1800s and early 1900s, numerous Polish women’s organisations were combining the fight for women’s rights and education with efforts to regain independence. In partitioned Poland, women worked underground, taking an active role in resisting Russian repression by taking part in assassination attempts and smuggling weapons and documents, often under their clothing. Outside Poland itself, other women — such as leading Shakespearean actress, Helena Modrzejewska — spoke publicly about the conditions suffered by Polish women and the fight for Polish independence.

But it was the First World War which catalysed more extensive change. Many Polish women took an active role in the war effort, despite some scepticism as to their capabilities. Women were heavily involved with espionage, whilst women’s leagues also initiated funding efforts and propaganda campaigns. Others cared for the wounded, or disseminated underground press releases. Some even actively fought, adopting male pseudonyms and donning disguises.

Central to the pro-abortion campaign was Irena Krzywicka, a writer and champion of women’s rights and sexual freedom. Her high-profile, extra-marital relationship with critic and cabaret writer Tadeusz Boy-Żeleński attracted scandal, but the pair also worked together to promote women’s access to abortion in the press, eventually establishing the first clinic in Poland to provide advice on contraception and sex. In 1932, a change to Polish law allowed abortion in cases where the mother’s life was at risk, or if the pregnancy resulted from a criminal act.

Krzywicka and Boy-Żeleński’s actions were also part of wider changes across interwar Polish society and culture. Leading female writers penned articles on sexual freedoms in literary and women’s magazines, including the indefatigable Zofia Nałkowska, whose novels were groundbreakingly modernist in their psychological and introspective profundity. Other women authors pushed boundaries elsewhere, including Maria Kuncewiczowa, author of the first Polish radio novel.

With their cabaret links, Krzywicka and Boy-Żeleński helped revolutionise and liberate the role of women in popular culture, although this faced some criticism from older, pre-war suffragists, who criticised their apparent consumerism and promiscuity. On glittering cabaret and theatre stages, troupes of women danced and performed their way to national heroine status; by day sharing quips with men in literary cafés, and by night embodying the interwar “New Woman” as flapper, vamp, and seductress. One leading female figure was dancer, singer, and film star Hanka Ordonówna, whose immaculate voice and resolute work ethic earned her a place in Polish musical history. Then there was Zula Pogorzelska, effervescent cabaret star and champion of the charleston in Poland. Behind the scenes, too, women were taking on more active roles: the Polish-Russian Fanny Gordon became one of the few women composers of the period, while Nina Niovilla was dubbed the “mother of Polish cinematography”.

But while a large number of women were (and continue to be) involved with campaigning for better rights and social freedoms in Poland, their legacies remain largely unknown in today’s Poland. “This is a topic which is completely ignored in the school teaching of history,” says Joanna Gzyra-Iskandar, from the Women’s Rights Centre. “The history of women’s movements in Poland is becoming better known thanks to women researchers, artists, activists, and social organisations, so it’s happening thanks to grassroots, not state, systematic activities.”

The first gender studies programme was set up in Poland in the mid-1990s at the University of Warsaw. Subsequent scholarly work aimed to research the history of women’s rights, deconstruct traditional gender roles — including the myth of the self-sacrificing Polish mother figure —and reject mainly male-centred perspectives in wider cultural fields.

However, with a backlash against so-called gender ideology in Poland in recent years, gender studies programmes are now under threat. In September last year, a government minister even called for a ban on teaching gender studies. Across Central Eastern Europe, gender studies programmes have also been criticised: the Hungarian government — often seen as an ally of the Polish government — banned gender studies in 2018.

Ultimately, Gzyra-Iskandar believes that curbs to women’s rights in contemporary Poland — and limited progress, especially in terms of sexual freedoms — proves that the fight to achieve equality still continues today.

“[The fight for women’s rights] will be a success when such perceptions of social relations will reflect in the law and general public awareness,” she says.

And if, in Poland, “things are still not well with us”, then there is urgent work to be done.