School of lies
Opolszczyzna, a region of Silesia in the south-western corner of the country, saw end of high-school exam papers leaked on the Internet, which necessitated 6,000 students retaking the exams. The students protested in the streets, asking why they should be punished collectively for the failure of the administration to protect secrets, but were eventually forced to go through with the re-examination.
Renata Beger, a popular Samoobrona (Self-Defense) deputy, also took high-school exams last week, but she was lucky enough to take them in Szczecin, where no retakes were necessary. Beger, who made a name for herself as a member of the Rywingate investigative commission, was forced to resign from it after being charged with faking more than a thousand signatures and the personal details of people supposedly supporting her candidacy. So, despite sarcastic comments that her low grade in the exam was caused by her illiteracy (she achieved a grade of two out of a possible six for Polish), she had already proven she could write, even if her style tends to be a bit repetitive.
"Fate or free will? Your thoughts on the human condition, using examples of several literary characters," is what students were asked to write in the repeat exam. An appropriate subject indeed, as many Poles must be pondering similar questions. What is the scope of personal freedom in a country where so much depends on corrupt officials? As a recent poll shows, 92 percent of citizens believe that corruption is "extremely widespread," this compared to just 90 percent of Russians. The eastern bear is near the top of the Transparency International list of the most corrupt countries in the world and yet that state enjoys slightly more trust from its citizens than is the case here.
That may be more a reflection of different tolerance levels in the two countries. Russians, after all, chose a former spy as their president, and his campaign to bring his former KGB colleagues, known as siloviki, into government has done nothing to lower his popularity. In this country, on the other hand, accusations that a politician was once connected to the secret services under a previous regime can still derail a career. Or can they?
True enough, when Józef Oleksy, the then prime minister, was accused of spying for Russia in the mid-1990s, he was forced to resign even though the evidence against him subsequently proved flimsy. Oleksy, after a few years in political limbo, has come back in style and is now speaker of the Sejm, the lower house of parliament. His election to the post was part of an elaborate deal to secure the support of the Democratic Left Alliance (SLD) and the Polish Peasants Party (PSL), an agrarian wing of the political establishment, for Marek Belka, the presidential candidate for prime minister (Oleksy having been the favorite of those parties to succeed Leszek Miller). The bid to offer him an alternative position though has not worked, as Belka failed to win a majority in the Sejm. And now he has himself come under fire for supposedly lying about his involvement with the communist secret police.
The rumors of Belka's shady past have been traced back to his former colleague in Miller's government, Mariusz Łapiński, who was expelled from the SLD after his involvement in an assault on a press photographer who had dared take pictures of the former health minister in a public place. Łapiński has joined the motley crew of political outcasts, mostly expelled from the SLD and Self-Defense parliamentary caucuses on suspicion of criminal behavior, known as the Federated Parliamentary Caucus (FKP), and is spreading news that Belka used to be an informer. The prime ministerial candidate charged in a press interview that "Łapiński either is, or boasts of being, an informer." He added that if Łapiński has anything to do with health, it is through having mental health problems himself.
It seems that no one is particularly bothered by accusations against Belka. Oddly, SLD chairman and known fan of Belka's candidacy Krzysztof Janik is said to have reacted to the allegations by saying: "So what? Professor Belka will simply admit to it and that's the end of the matter." Perhaps, but when Belka was finance minister and deputy minister in Miller's cabinet, he had to sign a sworn statement that he had not co-operated with the secret services. So, according to Janik, if Belka had lied under oath, there is no problem. He will simply own up to his lie and that's the end of it.
All that though is not to say that Marek Belka had ever informed on anyone. There is likely no evidence of that, and the man responsible for the allegations is hardly the most reliable person in the world. But Janik's complacency about the whole regrettable incident is remarkable. How could one think Belka a good candidate for prime minister while at the same time admitting the likelihood of his guilt as a perjurer and informer for the communist secret service? And, if that's not a problem, why make a fuss about leaking some school exam papers?
Renata Beger, a popular Samoobrona (Self-Defense) deputy, also took high-school exams last week, but she was lucky enough to take them in Szczecin, where no retakes were necessary. Beger, who made a name for herself as a member of the Rywingate investigative commission, was forced to resign from it after being charged with faking more than a thousand signatures and the personal details of people supposedly supporting her candidacy. So, despite sarcastic comments that her low grade in the exam was caused by her illiteracy (she achieved a grade of two out of a possible six for Polish), she had already proven she could write, even if her style tends to be a bit repetitive.
"Fate or free will? Your thoughts on the human condition, using examples of several literary characters," is what students were asked to write in the repeat exam. An appropriate subject indeed, as many Poles must be pondering similar questions. What is the scope of personal freedom in a country where so much depends on corrupt officials? As a recent poll shows, 92 percent of citizens believe that corruption is "extremely widespread," this compared to just 90 percent of Russians. The eastern bear is near the top of the Transparency International list of the most corrupt countries in the world and yet that state enjoys slightly more trust from its citizens than is the case here.
That may be more a reflection of different tolerance levels in the two countries. Russians, after all, chose a former spy as their president, and his campaign to bring his former KGB colleagues, known as siloviki, into government has done nothing to lower his popularity. In this country, on the other hand, accusations that a politician was once connected to the secret services under a previous regime can still derail a career. Or can they?
True enough, when Józef Oleksy, the then prime minister, was accused of spying for Russia in the mid-1990s, he was forced to resign even though the evidence against him subsequently proved flimsy. Oleksy, after a few years in political limbo, has come back in style and is now speaker of the Sejm, the lower house of parliament. His election to the post was part of an elaborate deal to secure the support of the Democratic Left Alliance (SLD) and the Polish Peasants Party (PSL), an agrarian wing of the political establishment, for Marek Belka, the presidential candidate for prime minister (Oleksy having been the favorite of those parties to succeed Leszek Miller). The bid to offer him an alternative position though has not worked, as Belka failed to win a majority in the Sejm. And now he has himself come under fire for supposedly lying about his involvement with the communist secret police.
The rumors of Belka's shady past have been traced back to his former colleague in Miller's government, Mariusz Łapiński, who was expelled from the SLD after his involvement in an assault on a press photographer who had dared take pictures of the former health minister in a public place. Łapiński has joined the motley crew of political outcasts, mostly expelled from the SLD and Self-Defense parliamentary caucuses on suspicion of criminal behavior, known as the Federated Parliamentary Caucus (FKP), and is spreading news that Belka used to be an informer. The prime ministerial candidate charged in a press interview that "Łapiński either is, or boasts of being, an informer." He added that if Łapiński has anything to do with health, it is through having mental health problems himself.
It seems that no one is particularly bothered by accusations against Belka. Oddly, SLD chairman and known fan of Belka's candidacy Krzysztof Janik is said to have reacted to the allegations by saying: "So what? Professor Belka will simply admit to it and that's the end of the matter." Perhaps, but when Belka was finance minister and deputy minister in Miller's cabinet, he had to sign a sworn statement that he had not co-operated with the secret services. So, according to Janik, if Belka had lied under oath, there is no problem. He will simply own up to his lie and that's the end of it.
All that though is not to say that Marek Belka had ever informed on anyone. There is likely no evidence of that, and the man responsible for the allegations is hardly the most reliable person in the world. But Janik's complacency about the whole regrettable incident is remarkable. How could one think Belka a good candidate for prime minister while at the same time admitting the likelihood of his guilt as a perjurer and informer for the communist secret service? And, if that's not a problem, why make a fuss about leaking some school exam papers?
