Whose memory?
Last week was a memorable anniversary for Europe: the 10th anniversary of the collapse of the Berlin Wall. Almost to the day, Poles celebrated the 71st anniversary of their own independence day 11th November in memory of the symbolic return of Marshal Jozef Pilsudski to Warsaw in 1918 and the effective establishment of Polish authority on Polish territory for the first time in over 120 years. So, Poles had double reason to celebrate last week. But for some reason, few Western politicians remembered the Poles during their own celebrations in Berlin. Ex-Presidents George Bush and Mikhail Gorbachev were there, as was former Chancellor Helmut Kohl, but no one else. Of course, Prime Minister Jerzy Buzek traveled to Berlin for talks with Chancellor Gerhard Schroder, together with other Central European Prime Ministers but that was after the allied road show left town.
Not for the first time, the role of Poland and the Poles in shaping European history seemed to have been glossed over. Of course, the collapse of the Berlin Wall was a spectacular event, and historically it has great symbolism. But only the historically illiterate could claim that it was that event which was the high point of the restoration of European identity. For a start, from the Poles' point of view, it was the Polish revolution of 1980-1981, and the 15-month existence of Solidarity under communism, that represented the first crack in the defenses of the Soviet monolith. Then came the 1988-1989 period, when first the Round Table talks between the communist authorities and opposition Solidarity laid the groundwork for the first semi-free election of 1989, and then the results of those elections themselves commenced the final process of disintegration of communism in Poland. That in turn was the final push that was needed to start the final decomposition of communist and Soviet power in Central Europe. Had not Poland shown the complete bankruptcy of communism, and made continued control by Moscow of Central European nations impossible without the use of force, no Berlin Wall would have collapsed at least not in 1989.
Most Polish observers also turn a wry smile at seeing Bush and Gorbachev basking in the glory of a united Germany. Those with long memories recall that both men, in the heady days of 1989, could only stand by as events unfolded, and that even then the prospect of a united Germany fully in NATO was something far from the political agenda of either the United States or the then Soviet Union. Most Western policy-makers remained fearful of a united Germany, and did what they could to pour cold water on the concept, at least at first; and the Soviet Union fought long and hard to keep a united Germany out of NATO. Neither was the prospect of a united Germany met with unanimous support among ordinary Germans either: both "Wessis" and "Ossis" had their own reasons for fearing the political, social and economic consequences of German unity.
And what of the Poles? To be sure, there were few politicians openly supporting immediate German unity. But at the same time, what objections there were derived more from a desire to clear up outstanding uncertainties such as the issue of a final settlement of the Polish-German border than any substantial objection to a principle of national self-determination which, after all, had been at the core of the Poles' own struggle throughout the communist period. There was already, then, a desire by Poles to be real partners in the process of settling the future of Germany in Europe, as well as, conversely, a hint that the West was already starting to treat the Poles as second-class citizens of Europe: recall the diplomatic pressure that had to be exerted by the then free government of Poland to be permitted to join the negotiations with Germany, France, Britain, the United States and the Soviet Union.
So when the Poles peer from the outside into the jamboree in Berlin they have cause to feel not a little peeved. But who is to blame? The truth is that in organizing the Berlin celebrations, with the main theme that European unity is down to Bush, Gorbachev and Kohl, rather than names such as Lech Walesa, Ronald Reagan and the great absentee in Berlin the peoples of Central Europe, the Germans were merely engaging in self-interested interpretation of history. That is their right. But the question has to be raised why the Poles failed to set the agenda themselves this year, when they had the perfect opportunity to do so. No one in the Polish government thought of organizing a similar jamboree, outpacing both the Germans and the Czechs (who have their own high-profile event planned for this week in Prague), to remind the world that if they have anyone to thank for freedom in Europe, it is mainly the Poles.
Marek Matraszek is the Warsaw director of CEC Government Relations. He can be e-mailed at director@cec.com.pl
