No longer the corridors of power

The above statement could easily be used to characterise the rise of the Solidarnoœć movement in Poland. By the last decades of the twentieth century most Polish workers had become fed up with the system, which was imposed upon them from the outside. They had worked for years under the communist regime and instead of seeing their living standards improve, they witnessed the opposite. Since the rise of the movement and the fall of communism, Solidarnoœć has been a central part of life in Gdańsk and continues to be so, with commemorative masses, marathons and bridge tournaments among just a few activities that bring the community together. The shipyard and its current situation are naturally linked with the city in a way that only large production plants can define entire towns. While in Warsaw everyone grabs their copy of Wyborcza from the kiosk or a local shop before work, in Gdańsk, men who must work in the shipyard read the paper in the store and go home without it. This overwhelming presence of the union is apparent from the moment one sets out from Gdańsk’s central railway station. Instead of marked routes to the historic old town, signs abound in Polish, English and German, pointing the way to various monuments and exhibits related to Solidarnoœć. There is the monument to the fallen shipyard workers, which towers above the entrance to the Gdańsk shipyards, where the standing exhibit “Roads to Freedom” publicises Solidarnoœć’s involvement in the fall of communism. Flags and flowers are still draped on the shipyard gate. Although membership numbers have drastically fallen from a high of more than seven million members to slightly more than 1.2 million, Solidarnoœć still has its offices in the heart of the city, a minute’s walk from the railway station, in a building that used to house the central shipping registry. Despite a visible wane in support, the union still has not lost its flair for advertising – one can spot the famous sign on the building’s rooftop from metres away. The interior is reminiscent of any governmental institution. The endless corridors are lined with identical wooden doors leading the way to offices and conference rooms. The walls are a combination of a drab yellow and off-white. But what immediately catches the eye of a first-time visitor is that the walls are covered with photographs of what the union considers historic individuals and moments. This collection is dominated by photographs of Lech Wałęsa and Pope John Paul II, and bears witness to injustices suffered by many of Solidarnoœć members and supporters. When an anniversary nears, the employees change the exhibit to suit the given occasion. Not something many trade unions would bother paying attention to, but then again not many have changed the course of history. The union offices are now far from the days of secret printing presses and conspiring system overthrow. Most of the rooms were empty, waiting for their new inhabitants as a result of recent elections. Solidarnoœć press officers, however, were busy collecting news clips related to their organisation – an activity that apparently consumes as much as three hours daily as they sieve through news and commentaries on the union and the country’s economic situation. Other rooms housed the EU Integration Committee and a training section, which was in the middle of a training session for newly appointed Solidarnoœć representatives. The union headquarters seem an almost entirely self-sufficient organism, with an employment office downstairs, where a small crowd gathers to read what jobs are available, and a cardiologist service that offers EKGs and transport to hospitals. Solidarnoœć also publishes its own paper, Magazyn Solidarnoœć. The first issue of the magazine was published in August 1980 in the Gdańsk shipyard. The newspaper not only monitors union activities all over the country, such as the recent Solidarnoœć convention, but also claims to be the movement’s conscience. A quick glance at its headlines “Leszek Miller on public TV,” “We do not trust the negotiators” and “We still have a mission to fulfil” lets a new reader realise these journalists are not only talking employee rights, they’re talking politics. Yet something ugly lurks beneath the martyrdom and suffering at the price of freedom. There are also posters that scream: “Hands off the labour code!” while Magazyn Solidarnoœć bashes the wife of Poland’s most popular politician, poking fun at Mrs. Kwaœniewska’s participation in an aristocrats’ charity ball. At times the combative and hostile attitude of some of the union’s representatives is almost reminiscent of their overzealous communist party counterparts several decades ago. While the Solidarnoœć contribution to changing the course of history is undeniable, something seems to have escaped the attention of some of its members. Perhaps it is humility. On your way out of the Solidarnoœć headquarters you will pass a small kiosk where employees would traditionally sneak out for a pack of cigarettes or a chocolate bar, and they probably do here as well. But this one, apart from the usual stock, also sells Solidarnoœć t-shirts, bumper stickers, ashtrays and flags of various shapes and sizes. Surely not for the employees.