XXXIV 11th December 2004
The soil in the yard, which is good for dancing in summer - becomes in autumn a quagmire, sinking over ankles, pulling oneʼs Wellingtons off and bogging down lorries, which have to be pulled out by tractors; there are of course stories of armies getting stopped by this mud, not least the Germans on the way to Moscow. It is incongruous that we ignored this difficulty for so many years, spending money on other priorities; but now we set to it - nearly 2000 square meters in three yards, two of them being done now and the last, behind the Institute, will be done next year.
The levelling had to be precise to shed the water, as carefully as on a French motorway, often in two directions at the same time. The preparing of ground was complicated by the fact that before the war part of the area had village housing which left raised areas, with remnants of foundations: also the differences between natural ground level and new floors in the two barns had to be adjusted. The garden area near to the road was trimmed carefully and we considered making soft areas for our dogs chained in the yards, but gave up the idea as impractical, hoping that their foot pads were not going to wear out on the concrete. A challenging operation in terms of concreting which includes slopping channels a foot deep, cloaking the buildings to prevent rainwater shedding against them. All water was channelled on to Hisako field, behind farm buildings, where it joins a ditch taking it to the river. Each yard took a week to concrete with J - working with one or two men at the time. It is good to observe that this kind of activity is going on everywhere in Poland and that local roads are getting the treatment and are becoming like country lanes in England or France.
The grandeur of Poland in 15th and 16th centuries, when she was the super-power in the East, on equal terms with countries of the West, scientifically and socially - did not lead, through circumstances of geography and of history, to the fulfilment of early aspirations. When it was later followed, by two centuries without freedom, it created understandably a unique national trauma - exaggerating the memory of suffering of generations. There is a way of looking at the past, tragic circumstances: when Britain or France, or for that matter Germany, look at them, as for instance at horrendous losses of the first World War, they do so with anger or pride, but do not involve self-pity; England in particular has evolved an art of looking at defeat with self-esteem, whether at Dunkirk or in the charge of the Light Brigade. Something of the same spirit has now developed in Poland, concerning the ill-fated Warsaw Uprising, which is a good sign in the tradition of the nation.
Pride in defeat is an art of contempt for adversity, while looking for defeat in victory is a search into misanthropy. The question: has Poland really won the war - tempting an answer: that Russian liberation was no freedom, is in that category. There were in the past, many glorious victories, often without a clear purpose, like Sobieskiʼs victory in Vienna, which saved Austria, who barely a century later, dismem- bered Poland; or the exaggerated policies like ʻOd Morza do Morzaʼ from Sea to Sea, and the wars which it prompted ʻbeyond the Dnieperʼ. To win a war is to establish a defiant state policy - for Poland at this time, the assuring of broad access to the sea and establishing of her eastern borders: is equivalent to winning the war - so to ask such a question is to search in history for misanthropic bitterness - while the answer to it, must be a definite affirmative. For the state today is made by Poles for Poles in the same borders as were established by Bolesław the Brave, a thousand years ago.
The years that followed the liberation were not complete freedom, as the Polish nation had to operate within power parameters agreed by the victors, with a line drawn across Europe at Yalta; east was Communist and west Capitalist - with no exceptions allowed on either side. I first visited this Poland in 1961, more than 20 years after I left, and hearing Polish language in the street after crossing the Oder was a unique and unbelievable thrill. So were the beautiful Army girls with their revolvers strapped on shapely buttocks, and the question: “have you Rajstops?” the ʻheavenly feetʼ a name coined for tights, which they craved. I drove from Sopot in the north, to Rabka in the south visiting people and places remembered. One did feel some edge of Socialist trimming, with many complaints, sometimes against the Russians and sometimes against the West. In Rabka I visited my Wieczorkowski Gymnasium, private institution of a great idealist, who charged stiff fees to private students, to give free tuition to the sons of Gorale (mountain peasants) - and when deprived by Germans during the war of the right to teach, he com-mitted suicide. Going for a walk on a local mountain Grzebien (the Comb), and parking my Renault-Dauphine near some houses, I found on return, the side window smashed with a large stone and yet nothing missing inside. A woman appeared in tears, leading by the hand her daughter of nine, and explained that it was the girl who did it: “because she thought you were a Capitalist”. We dismissed the incident, and I explained that I did not have much capital - however it did strike me that the young were over motivated.
Visiting grandmother, a lady in her nineties, at the house in Milanowek, the lunch was prepared by a peasant woman who loyally looked after her, but grandmother insisted that we spoke French throughout, so that the ʻplebsʼ did not understand. There were these traditions of ʻgentryʼ (Szlachta) in Poland, people comparing family history and crests, which was all swept aside then, with the sons and daughters of this class often suffering injustices. The levelling of society, with priority on education of the worker, and of womenʼs rights, sweeping old prejudices aside, resulted in creating a foundation for what is today the best educated worker in Europe. Polish men and women are liked and much sought throughout Europe. This change was then apparent everywhere: the Leszczyn Manor was converted into a primary school, and the young man Stefan, who was trained to be a butler in the manor, was now a man of importance as headman of the village and president of ʻKniazʼ huntersʼ club. He entertained me to tea with style which he learned in the manor, maybe on its cups, but without a sense of vassalage; owning a humble looking cottage, at the edge of the old estate parkland. Inside it was fitted out with best equipment, with two rifles on the wall and an electric light before a statue of Virgin Mary in a recess: perhaps not a step he could make before the war.
These 50 years of Socialism may be seen now, with hind- sight and for the sake of men and women who built it, with some pride. The rebuilding of Warsaw with Bierut, establish- ing of free agriculture with Gomulka or Cybulski, the ʻMaluchʼ and much else with Gierek, the best educated working men, a Communism with a free church and a Polish Pope - the round-table with Walesa - all this, to an Englishman represents one parcel: a half century, which the nation might celebrate, without searching for too many failures. And during that time, like now, Poland flew her flag and sang the anthem, which to a Pole is not just an expression of nationalism, but an expression of freedom, missed for long - which I witnessed existing in those times.
The restraints, which existed then, seemed worse because they were not recognized as arising from necessity but from dogma, as many indeed did, but we know that a force-majeure did exist, in a balancing between powers, for the price of avoiding nuclear-war - the cost of which some countries, like Poland, bore more than others. Nor is life today, within a power region of European Union, free from restraints. And if she allows her quixotic politicians to step outside it, to serve yet another foreign power for imaginary aims or because of false fears - then God save poor Poland: back to Vienna, Samo-Sierra, San Domingo, and Iraq. But every Pole is a guardian of the choices the country makes and can remember the first words the Pope spoke to her and to the world: ʻdonʼt be afraidʼ as John-Paul said.
