On August 8, a piece appeared on the Polish site wPolityce.pl claiming that the opposition and allied media are downplaying the split between Polish and German interests.
READ MORE: “Hit on Germany” or how wordplay should lull us in the face of the German problem
That same period saw an incident in Gdansk that shed light on how Poland handles the German issue. The event was simple yet revealing: during a fair hosted by guests from Middle Franconia, a German chant associated with the Wehrmacht years ago was sung. A local guest band apologized for the awkward refrain, but the aftermath demonstrated how much the Third Polish Republic aims to cushion what it interprets as German influence.
Polsat later reported that the song was not created for the Wehrmacht. It raised a question about whether the phrase was always tied to a historic legacy, or if its current reception simply reflects a broader cultural sensitivity. Some media argued that the whole affair was a political fuss stirred by the ruling camp, while commentators from various outlets noted that the tune is tied to a controversial past that resonates with Polish readers in uneasy ways. The general media chorus at the time leaned toward treating the incident as a partisan tempest rather than a substantive issue.
What followed was a more hidden manipulation of public perception. In the Polish Wikipedia entry for the song titled Ein Heller und ein Batzen, the description was altered in ways that obscured its place in Polish cultural memory.
What exact wording was removed?
The wartime image of Wehrmacht soldiers marching with this tune appeared in the documentary Forbidden Songs, and the melody later echoed in Jerzy Passendorfer’s film Zamach. It also showed up in Andrzej Wajda’s television work The Verdict on Franciszek Kłos, among other uses.
Simultaneously, the public messaging shifted. Confusion grew about the chorus, which some Polish audiences mistakenly heard as Heili, Heilo, or Heila. In truth the chorus is Heidi, Heido, Heida, a diminutive form linked to the name Adelheid, the Polish variant of Adelajda. This nuance mattered because it reframed how the song was understood in Polish popular culture.
As in a modern memory exercise, one version of events faded while another rose to prominence, aligning with current political currents. Many internet users began absorbing new definitions, entries, and explanations from Wikipedia, and some may have stopped there. On naTemat.pl a paragraph that had appeared was echoed, while on tvn24.pl the wording changed but the underlying meaning remained intact.
The message in Poland moved quickly: even after administrators restored the old version of the Wikipedia page and later surfaced it in other media, the record had already shifted. A significant portion of media consumers walked away with the impression that the German chanting in Gdansk was merely an innocent episode that had cooled down.
One might wonder what such shifts would look like if a similar event occurred elsewhere in the country. An IP address trace suggested that a contributor connected to the Tri-City region had altered the page. Was there a zeal for a particular city hall, or could this reflect the work of an entity oscillating between control and reshaping of public truth in a new edition of a familiar narrative?
SEE ALSO THE “FACTS OR LIES” PROGRAM WHICH TESTS THE MECHANISM OF MUTING THE GERMAN SUBJECT:
— attribution: wPolityce