Alex Dancyg was a man who defied simple categorization.
To some, he was 100% Israeli; to others, he was 100% Polish. To his students and colleagues, he was a devoted Zionist, a kibbutznik, a passionate educator, but also a proud Pole. He was a man deeply committed to peace, yet tragically his life came to an end as a Hamas hostage.
Born in Poland in 1948, just three years after the end of World War II, Dancyg grew up in a world shaped by the Holocaust. His parents were Holocaust survivors, and though they managed to rebuild their lives in Poland after the war, the antisemitic climate of Communist Poland in the 1950s drove the family to make aliyah. At just nine years old, Dancyg found himself in Tel Aviv, struggling with loneliness as he adapted to a new language and culture.
But Dancyg’s shaping of his unique identity was evident from a young age. He quickly integrated into Israeli life, joining the Zionist-socialist pioneering youth movement Hashomer Hatzair, and soon became part of the kibbutz movement, which would shape his identity for the rest of his life. He served in the Paratroopers during the Six Day War and the Yom Kippur War. After the wars, he turned his attention to teaching, and later became a pivotal figure in fostering Israeli-Polish relations.
Despite his love for Israel and his work on Kibbutz Nir Oz, Dancyg was deeply connected to Poland and worked to build a bridge destroyed by the Holocaust. He was an ardent believer in the power of dialogue and understanding, particularly between Israelis and Poles. He accomplished his pioneering role by helping establish and leading Israeli tour groups to Poland, educating young Israelis on Polish history and the Holocaust. His unique perspective as someone who straddled both cultures gave him the ability to present a nuanced view of the complex relationship between Jews and Poles, easier said than done in an environment where many Jews viewed themselves as victims of Polish persecution.
In a recorded interview, Dancyg said, “I have this dialogue inside myself between my Polish identity and Jewish identity, which aren’t in conflict. I want our two nations to have a dialogue because I live here [in Israel] and I’m Jewish, but culturally, part of my heart is there in Poland.”
Polish-Israeli dialogue
“Alex Dancyg was a man of extraordinary intellect, but of a type that isn’t found today,” said Naama Egozi, a former student and colleague from Yad Vashem. “He was a consumer of culture, humanities, theater, sports... of Israel, Poland, and elsewhere.... He knew enough to speak with experts in these fields.” According to his son Yuval Dancyg, this was one way his father connected to audiences vast and different, through a story in a field they appreciated.
Dancyg’s role as a bridge between two worlds was projected far beyond his own personal identity complex. At Yad Vashem, where he served as head of the Polish desk in the European Department between 2006 and 2018, Dancyg worked tirelessly to reshape the narrative of Polish-Israeli relations. To achieve these goals, Polish educational seminars took place at Yad Vashem, as well as cooperation with museum and clergy from all over Poland, according to Orit Margaliot, a close friend who worked with Dancyg co-heading the Polish desk at Yad Vashem until 2017.
Egozi, who worked with him for over two decades, described his teaching style as one that demanded depth and understanding.
“He taught us to ask questions and demanded of us to investigate the foundations of a topic based on facts,” she said.
Dancyg’s approach to Polish-Jewish history was balanced and nuanced, adding complexion to a worldview where Jews were the main victims. While he did not shy away from acknowledging the crimes committed by some Poles during the Holocaust, he also insisted that Israeli students understand the suffering of the Polish people under Nazi occupation. “The Polish nation also suffered, was also a victim,” he would explain to his students. For Dancyg, fostering empathy for the Polish narrative did not diminish Jewish suffering – it deepened the understanding of both.
Margaliot believes the approach was revolutionary. “To introduce Polish history and Polish Jewish history and to actually say you cannot relate to Poland without speaking of the Polish Jews, and you cannot speak about Polish Jewry without putting them into the context of Polish history. You want to understand the ups and downs of Polish history; you need to understand the general Polish narrative.”
One of his novel contributions to Polish-Israeli dialogue was his insistence that Israeli students traveling to Poland not only visit concentration camps but also engage with Polish students.
“Remove one concentration camp and rather go to a school, meet the students, make groups among them, have a discussion,” he would tell his colleagues. For Dancyg, these interactions were crucial in breaking down stereotypes and fostering a more profound understanding between young people of both nations.
His impact on Polish-Israeli relations was profound, and he was regarded as a pioneer in this field.
Egozi noted that many of his students came to realize how narrow their perspectives had been before encountering Dancyg’s teachings. “The biggest achievement I obtained being his student was the understanding of the Polish narrative that Alex presented to us,” she reflected.
Alex the kibbutznik, even on Oct. 7
Despite his intellectual pursuits and in conjunction with Polish-Israeli relations, Dancyg remained deeply committed to his life as a kibbutznik.
Hani Efremov, a past pupil who was a colleague in training Israeli guides to Poland, illustrated how his passions were infused.
“We would have meetings at Nir Oz; we would be hosted as staff. We would come and eat lunch with him at the kibbutz.
“Before we could even speak to him, we would hitch a ride on a pickup truck and take a trip into the fields. He was involved in irrigation. I am a moshavnik, so I had a common language with him.... I would see the sparkling eyes full of dust...
“His home was full of books, Hebrew and Polish, and he loved poetry.... He was a humanist.”
His son Yuval said: “Our home became a second home to any Polish volunteer who came to the kibbutz, including visiting dignitaries [from Poland]. With a bookshelf over half in Polish, and with themes of books such as Polish kings, a unique theme even for Polish nationals, one visiting Pole told me he felt he was right at home: Poland in the Middle East.”
As tensions with Gaza escalated, Yuval didn’t think it was a good idea for his father to remain living so close to the border, with the rocket attacks. “He wasn’t young anymore, and he didn’t need all the uncertainty,” Yuval said. But for Dancyg, leaving the kibbutz was unthinkable. “He said he couldn’t change who he was,” Yuval recalled, “and to end his kibbutz work would take away a part of what he was.”
Even as fires set by incendiary balloons from Gaza devastated the fields of the kibbutz, Dancyg remained committed to his vision as a kibbutznik. In an interview in May 2023, he was quoted in Poland as saying, “Had they wanted to take hostages, they would have taken them by now.” Tragically, his prediction would prove false just months later.
On the morning of Oct. 7, Alex Dancyg was in contact with his son and a friend until around 9 a.m. His house on Kibbutz Nir Oz was left without bullet markings, an anomaly given the widespread destruction in the kibbutz that day. Yuval suspects that his father, hearing Arabic spoken nearby, chose to surrender rather than resist. He was taken into Gaza along with two other kibbutz members, Nurit and Amiram Cooper. Witnesses later reported that upon arriving in Khan Yunis, Dancyg was beaten by the Gazan crowd.
What happened after his capture remains uncertain. According to news reports, his body was found with bullet marks. However, according to Yuval, his cause of death wasn’t conclusive and is still under investigation by the Israeli military.
A legacy of understanding
Alex Dancyg’s life was defined by his commitment to fostering understanding between cultures. His work at Yad Vashem made an impression on thousands of students and educators in both Israel and Poland.
A testament of his legacy is found in the outpouring of support, especially from Poland, calling for his release, found in the Help Bring Alex Home #StandwithAlex Facebook page. His vision for Polish-Israeli relations extended far beyond academia – he sought to change hearts and minds, believing that only through empathy and dialogue could true peace be achieved.
His funeral, in a kibbutz which was once serene but today is gutted by destroyed homes, was attended by hundreds, including representatives from the Polish Embassy. Polish President Andrzej Duda, represented by an embassy official, had the following to say about Dancyg: “He was commonly called an ambassador of dialogue and a man of reconciliation because everywhere he built bridges between different nationalities and cultures, and this is how we will remember him. We are grateful, and we appreciate his achievements that bring honor to his memory.”
Yad Vashem paid tribute to Dancyg’s legacy through a statement by Dani Dayan, chairman of the Yad Vashem Directorate. “Alex’s essence embodied both in spirit and substance his love for the land and thirst for knowledge. His vast library at his home in Kibbutz Nir Oz reflected his deep connection between his cherished Israeli and Jewish identity and his Polish birthplace.”
Dancyg’s family also spoke of the deep loss they felt. His granddaughter tearfully bade farewell to her loving grandfather. Yuval will miss the talks with his father the most, always an opportunity to learn something new from him. “He was a man of so much knowledge in so many things,” he said.
His life was a bridge between old and new. Instead of leaving it to history, he tried to build a bridge between destroyed worlds in a desire to create a better tomorrow, one that will not soon be forgotten by the thousands of human beings he touched and illuminated.