We are afraid of Russians. We fear Russians not on the battlefield, as it was not that long ago that we won a major victory over them. There are still people among us who took part in the Battle of Warsaw in 1920.

What we fear is Russia’s imperialism–Russian political schemes. Why do the Russians prefer having satellite states–such as Poland, Czechoslovakia or Hungary–rather than amicable, relatively neutral neighbours? This is a question to which there is no logical answer under the present circumstances. If, nowadays, West Germany had a powerful army, nuclear weapons, and was partial to the complete idea of retaliation, the role of satellite states as a bulwark against Russia would make sense. But, as we know, modern Germany has nothing to do with militarism. In my German book, published 10 years ago, I ventured the view that German tanks would never again be seen at the gates of Moscow. Certain situational arrangements and patterns do recur in history, but most of the time history is a series of firsts. History is fascinating exactly because “the same” is never “the same” and new editions of virtually identical circumstances produce different results.

That being said, due to historical conditioning we attach too much importance to so-called imponderables and not enough to transformation. Older people–such as the author of these words–are especially prone to repeating that, in essence, nothing changes. Russia is imperialistic because that is how it has always been. The instinct of imponderabilia suggests to us that the Germans have not ever changed either and, as soon as the right circumstances arise, they will arm themselves to the teeth and reach for our western regions.

Some 70%, perhaps 80% of politics is a discussion about history. None of us knows exactly what the members of the Politburo in the Kremlin discuss in their secret sessions. None of us knows what Brezhnev thinks and plans in the depths of his soul. We do know from history, however, what his predecessors thought and planned over the last two centuries. Hence, we infer that Brezhnev thinks a lot like his predecessors because “in essence, nothing changes”.

Obviously, historical conditioning in a given situation may stand in stark contrast to reality–usually, however, history has a stronger suggestive power than the present time. History trumps the present, much like a father towers over his under-age son.

In looking at Russia we are burdened with historical ballast. But are the Russians also burdened with historical ballast?

In his book, Journey to the Beginning, Edgar Snow gives an account of a longer face-to-face conversation with Maxim Litvinov[2] in Moscow. The conversation took place without witnesses on October 6th, 1944.

It is perhaps worth noting that Litvinov was married to an English woman, was familiar with the West, and spoke fluent English. At the time, his career was coming to an end, of which he was fully aware.

When Snow asked about Poland, Litvinov answered that under no circumstances could the Russians agree to the return of the “Beckist” group (as Litvinov referred to the Polish government in London).

Interestingly, Litvinov did not mention any ideological reservations–he did not speak of Polish reactionaries, capitalists, or landowners. What he did say was that the Polish government in London–Sosnkowski in particular–represented the concept of Poland’s historic imperialism and aimed to reconstruct Poland’s empire of the 16th and 17th centuries. In Litvinov’s opinion, Beck was prepared to ally with the Germans to achieve that end and the Poles in London were willing to ally with the Americans for the same purpose.

We were at the end of our biological strength, battered by Hitler’s occupation and the underground struggle–we dreamt of a bit of a Polish roof over our heads, not an empire. For Litvinov, however, we were a potential rival.

Personally, I was astounded to read Edgar Snow’s account–it seemed tragicomic to me that in 1944 an experienced politician could suspect us of imperialism. It was like someone warning a starving beggar, with all seriousness, of the hazards of abusing food and drink.

And yet... upon rereading Litvinov’s utterances I concluded that there was nothing comical about them. Litvinov saw Poland in the same way that Poles see Russia–from the point of view of historical conditioning.

For Russians, Polish imperialism is a perennial thread running through history. One need not go too far back to find witnesses of a Polish presence in Kyiv.

When Mikołajczyk told Stalin that Lviv had never been part of the Russian empire, Stalin responded: “Lviv did not belong to Russia–but Warsaw did.” He then added: “We remember that the Polish were in Moscow once.”

Many of us believe that Poles have cured themselves of imperialism. The Russians, however, are of a different opinion. Historical conditioning inspires their fear that the Polish, if they were to regain independence, would embark on the path of imperialism with which they had always identified.

Has this imperialistic vein indeed withered in us? Is Russia’s historic “Polish complex” unfounded?

I think not. Many Poles living nowadays dream not only about a Polish Lviv and Vilnius, but even a Polish Minsk and Kyiv. Many envisage an independent Poland in confederation with Lithuania, Ukraine, and Belarus as the ideal. In other words, Polish imperialism is the only alternative to Russian imperialism, and it has always been like that.

Perhaps we should take this opportunity to review a typical phenomenon among the diaspora. After my article, titled Polska „Ostpolitik[3]”, was published in “Kultura” I received many letters from Poles in many countries expressing their complete support for the program I had proposed. Letters also came from authors, several of whom noted that they had long reconciled themselves with the idea of the forfeiture of Lviv and Vilnius, although they did not write about it so as not to stir up public opinion.

We have brought about a paradoxical situation. The diaspora’s views evolve and mutate, whereas the views of the establishment and the press it directs have remained unchanged for 30 years. Even better, I have evidence that some people among the emigration establishment even share our views on Lviv and Vilnius but would never admit to this publicly so as not to irk opinions. Whose opinions?

There are two groups of people who reject all arguments and discussions on the matter. The first comprises mostly people originating from Eastern Lesser Poland or from the Vilnius region. For these Poles, attachment to the land–although not their motherland but their homeland–prevents them from endorsing arguments of reason.

The second group are people who, for the sake of maintaining a legalist title, reduce the idea of independence to the absurd concept of restoring the Second Commonwealth. There is no other Poland than the Poland based on the prewar Constitution, with the President, Sejm and Senate. Only a reborn and independent Second Commonwealth could relinquish Vilnius or Lviv by way of resolutions of the Sejm, approved by the President.

This concept’s failing is that while it may be taken for granted that if not us then it is future generations who will see Poland’s independence, it is also certain that the prewar Constitution will not be in force in Poland, not for a single day. The liberated nation will elect a parliament that will enact a new constitution that will correspond with the new political, social and economic conditions. The vast majority of society, both in Poland and in the diaspora, does not doubt this.

As a result, although nobody believes in the annexation of Lviv and Vilnius to Poland, the myth is being sustained officially for legalistic purposes. Furthermore, it is widely believed that, because an émigré government in exile that is based on legalism cannot pursue any legal politics, it makes no difference if it claims rights to Lviv and Vilnius, or Minsk and Kyiv.

Alas, it does make a difference. In exile, we cannot effect any territorial modifications, but we can and should establish certain principles. There is a new Russian diaspora emerging in the West. We should establish a dialogue and seek rapport with those people. The first question in the dialogue must pertain to the issue of nationality.

The new Russian emigrants are anti-Soviet. We do know, however, that people far removed from communism or even socialism can also be Russian imperialists. This is why the political stance of every new Russian emigrant must be assessed based on his approach to the nationality question.

Of course, we must subject ourselves to the same evaluation. We must not assume a position where any Great Russia program is deemed as imperialism, while Poland’s Eastern program is not imperialism but is instead an elevated “Jagiellonian idea.”

In other words, we can only demand that Russians disavow their imperialism on the condition that we ourselves forsake our traditional/historic imperialism in all its forms and guises.

For us, the “Jagiellonian idea” has nothing to do with imperialism. For Lithuanians, Ukrainians, and Belarussians, however, it is traditional Polish imperialism in its pure form. The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth ended in the total Polonization of the Lithuanian nobility, and the most ardent confession of love to Lithuania (Mickiewicz’s “O Lithuania, my country, thou art like good health”) was written in Polish. A Pole is unable to even think of a comparable situation. Can one imagine Slowacki writing only in Russian? The Russians tried to Russify us, but they failed to take away even one poet or writer from us. On the contrary, the pressure to Russify caused an impressive flourishing of Polish literature and language.

It is nice to tell oneself that Polish culture is attractive–for many, much more attractive than Russian culture. When viewed from a Lithuanian or Ukrainian perspective, however, this very fact means that Poles are more formidable assimilators than the Russians. All it takes for Poles to fully spread their assimilator wings is a conducive turn of events.

In their perfidious national politics, the Russians exploit the advantage of the attractiveness of Polish culture. In Vilnius, a daily magazine is published in Polish, theatres from the Polish People’s Republic[4] (PPR) visit, etc. This operation is targeted not at the Poles living in Lithuania and thirsty for their mother tongue. It is aimed at Lithuanians, and Lithuanians only. From the Russian point of view, the influence of Polish culture–even in its PPR rendition–hampers the development of a purely Lithuanian nationalism and a native Lithuanian culture. Obviously, Moscow welcomes whatever gets in the way of the process of crystallisation of the Lithuanian national identity.

In Eastern Europe, if not just peace but also freedom is ever to settle in this region there can be no room for any imperialism, whether Russian or Polish. We must not clamour that the Russians should give Kyiv back to the Ukrainians and proclaim in the same breath that Lviv must return to Poland. This is the “double-entry bookkeeping” which prevented us from overcoming the barrier of historic distrust between Poland and Russia in the past. The Russians suspected that we were anti-imperialist but only in relation to Russians–meaning that we wished to replace a Russian imperialism with a Polish one.

If, for the sake of simplicity, we designate the area consisting of Ukraine, Lithuania, and Belarus with the acronym ULB, it should be said that in the future–and, in a way, also nowadays–the ULB area has been more than a “bone of contention” between Poland and Russia. It determined the shape of Polish-Russian relationships, condemning us to either imperialism or satellite status.

It is a folly to presume that Poland may straighten out its relationships with Russia by conceding that the issues of the ULB area are internal matters of the Russian state. The rivalry between Poland and Russia in those areas has forever been geared towards gaining superiority rather than a neighbourly Polish-Russian relationship.

From the Russian point of view, the incorporation of the ULB area into the Russian empire is the precondition for reducing Poland to satellite status. From Moscow’s perspective, Poland must be a satellite in one form or another. History teaches the Russians that a truly independent Poland has always reached out for Vilnius and Kyiv and tried to establish its dominance over the ULB territory. If these historic aims of the Poles were to be successful, it would be tantamount to the annihilation of Russia’s imperial status in Europe. In other words, Poland cannot be truly independent if Russia is to maintain its imperial status in Europe.

Things are similar from the Polish point of view. We have sought supremacy in the ULB area–whether by military means or by promoting visions of confederation–because history teaches us that a Russia with dominance in those areas is an invincible rival. From the hand of a victorious rival, nothing but captivity can be expected.

There are two points I would like to highlight. First of all, it is an impossibility to discuss Polish-Russian Relationships in isolation from the ULB area, as Polish-Russian relations were always the function of the situation in those areas in any given historical period.

If there had been no Hitler, if WWII had never happened, if the Germans had been peaceful, benevolent Europeans, Poland’s independence would still be threatened by Russia because in 1920 we were victorious at Warsaw but not at Kyiv. Purges and liquidations of the best Soviet army officers would have ended after Stalin’s death, Russia would have embarked on an arms race that Poland would inevitably have lost. Sooner or later, Russia’s military superiority over Poland would have been so great that, with or without Germany’s help, Russia would have imposed its protectorate over Poland. This was, quite simply, on the cards, and there was no shortage of political commentators in Poland who realised this. In the book issued by Jerzy Giedroyc at the beginning of the “New Germany” era, when nobody in Europe realised who Hitler was and what his plans were, Adolf Bocheński[5], the great columnist who fell in battle at Ancona (in keeping with his declaration that “one should not return from this war”), advised that an agreement with Germany should be sought. Such an agreement would have aimed to tear Ukraine away from Russia. It is always about Ukraine, Lithuania, and Belarus because the situation there determines Polish-Russian relations.

Now for the second point. It seems to me that, while the Russians have always underestimated Ukrainians they have always overestimated Poles. They always see us as rivals, active or potential, but always rivals. Khrushchev may have agreed to sending the Racławice Panorama[6] from Lviv[7], but he also categorically discouraged making it available to the Polish public, believing that it would remind Poles of the armed insurrection against Russia. This was also the argument[8] for the famous incident involving the staging of Mickiewicz’s Dziady[9].

Of course, large scale “December events”[10] seem to me as far more likely in Poland than the outbreak of an armed uprising against Russia. There is not a single émigré politician calling for an uprising among the Poles at home. What Russians fear is not so much a social revolution in Poland but more a national uprising. They also believe that a workers’ revolution aiming to take down the party leader and his regime would shed its socioeconomic features and transform into a national revolt against Russia.

We also need to remember that it was the Poles, not the Russians, who suffered the shock of the Warsaw Uprising, the shock of Poland’s abandonment by the Western allies, and the shock of the country’s occupation by the Soviet forces. We lost the war completely because not a single piece of independent Poland remained. We were betrayed by our own history, to which we had been building altars in literature, painting, and music. We made the most horrible discovery a nation can make, namely that History is but a folder of notes from the “dead home” and not a living past that finds confirmation in the present. Under such circumstances, a Pole could hardly become anything but a historical revisionist. No wonder that even Catholic and non-communist writers, who even denounced socialism, promoted a view–on the ruins of “exotic alliances”–that an alliance with the Soviet Union must constitute the cornerstone of Polish politics. It was a conscious resignation from the position of a rival to become a vassal.

We must bear in mind that those traumatic experiences were purely one-sided, only applying to Poles, not Russians.

The thing optimistically named “universal history” does not exist. Not only is there no universal history–there is even no such thing as European history. There is only Polish, Russian, French, German history etc. The Battle of Vienna with King Sobieski at the forefront, as viewed through the prism of Polish history, looks very unlike the Battle of Vienna in the accounts of German history.

History is stop-motion politics. This is why a political writer must be capable of taking a bird’s-eye view of history. In this subject, a politician must be able to look at the chain of events through the eyes of both a Pole and a Russian, because politics is a continuation of history and Russian history cannot be understood without understanding how the Russians interpret history. The Polish nation has always played a major role in Russian history and it is essential for us to familiarise ourselves with the perspectives from which Russians look at us.

The situation at the final stages of World War II resembled the situation after the battle of Jena. Napoleon ruled over all of Europe, with only two states left to conquer: Russia and England. Napoleon was in Moscow while Hitler was on the outskirts of Moscow. In both cases, Moscow was aided by weather and space. Russia’s vastness has an ineffable effect on people from Western and Central Europe. In France and Germany, a hundred kilometres is an immense distance but in Russia, a hundred kilometres is nothing. In the memoirs of a German officer I stumbled upon a description saying that Russia is a country without a horizon. Beyond the horizon, when you reach it, are more fields, hills and rivers, and once you reach the next horizon there are again more fields, hills and rivers, and this goes on without end, week after week, month after month. The German officer writes that even in the summer, after many weeks of marching, this unending Russian space evokes a sense of helplessness even in the most hardened man.

The Russians suffered immense losses but history did not betray them, meaning that the modern day confirmed the past. Like Napoleon’s armies, Hitler’s forces, worn out by Russia’s climate and expanse, were beaten and repelled far beyond the borders of the Russian empire.

In Poland, the technological breakthrough of aviation and tanks rid us of our traditional weapon, the cavalry. We had unquestionably the best cavalry in Europe, but in our case, the modern day failed to confirm history. On the contrary, tradition proved to be a toothless crone against the motorised armoured columns that overpowered us within 17 days.

All I have written above is intended to illustrate the fact that history did not betray Russia: on the contrary, it asserted traditional Russian assumptions. Consequently, the Russians–unlike the Poles–believe that nothing has changed since the battle of Jena. Russia has a different political system but remains as imperial and invincible as before. On the other hand, the bottom has fallen out of our Polish world. Revolution has not pushed the bottom out of the Russian world because Russia remains historically the same as it was, namely imperialist and possessive.

Let’s look at another example. The revolution and defeat that took place in the Ottoman Empire in the aftermath of World War I deprived Turkey of its historic identity. Turkey ceased to be an imperial power. As a consequence, modern Turks think completely differently than their grandfathers and great-grandfathers did several decades ago. The October Revolution, on the other hand, did not deprive Russia of its empire and it did not change a thing in Russia’s historical disposition. After World War II Stalin behaved and acted like a tsar and autocrat of All Russia–a symbol and representative of the imperial idea of Russia.

We all know it, but few of us realise that this Russian historical conservatism also encompasses the assessment of Poland and Poles. Litvinov spoke about rebuilding the Polish empire of the 16th and 17th centuries, which seems comical to us but for Litvinov–unlike for us–the 20th century was a continuation of the 16th and 17th centuries with the same traditional issues, including the Polish ones. Just like the tsars before them, Litvinov and Brezhnev believed–and believe still–that the areas of Ukraine, Lithuania, and Belarus may either be ruled by Poles or by Russians. From a historical standpoint there is no third solution, only the choice between Polish and Russian imperialism exists.

The Russians overestimate us because they look at us from the Russian historical perspective. Poles, on the other hand–even though they are proud of, and more often sentimental about their historical past–believe that this imperial glory has nothing to do with today’s reality.

We behave like a nobleman who has lost his estates. Shabby management, mishaps, and above all a bad neighbour–all this resulted in us losing the “wealth” we were owned under God’s and man’s law. We find consolation, however, in the fact that “historical justice” has punished the Ukrainians, Lithuanians, and Belarussians because they changed their good, Polish masters to bad, Soviet ones.

For 300 years we had the upper hand in the East. If we take Grzymułtowski’s peace (May 1st, 1686)[11] as a turning point in the history of the Polish-Russian relationships, it must be said that Russia has now had an advantage in the East for 300 years. This “duality”–either us or them–prevents the normalisation of the relations between Poland and Russia. It is because of this duality that Poles, just like the Russians, do not believe in a third solution. Because of the tertium non datur we accept satellite status as a grim but real state of affairs. In an “either us or them” system, they are on top this time.

There is, however, a difference between Poles and Russians. The Russians’ advantage has been confirmed by History. Our struggles, uprisings, and even victories have been turned to dust by History. We stick to the “either us or them” system because we do not know or have any other. Most Poles, however, do not believe in this system anymore, they do not believe that we can ever reach an advantage over Russia. This lack of faith begets a satellite mentality and servility.

Myself, I also do not believe in the “either us or them” system. I do not believe that we would ever be able to push Russia back from the outskirts of Przemysl to Smolensk. I also believe that the above system, historically rooted as it may be, is an anachronism nowadays and a barbaric one at that. In the 20th century, Ukrainians, Lithuanians, and Belarusians must not be pawns in Poland and Russia’s historical game.

I aimed to demonstrate that the “either us or them” system, as much as it gets its power from many centuries of tradition, is essentially a poisoned well. We must seek relationships and rapport with the Russians who are prepared to admit the full right of self-determination for Ukrainians, Lithuanians and Belarussians and, just as importantly, we ourselves must give up on Vilnius, Lviv, and any policies or plans that would aim to establish–given the right conditions–our supremacy in the East at the expense of the aforementioned nations. Poles, as well as Russians, must understand that only a non-imperialist Russia and a non-imperialist Poland would stand a chance of arranging their mutual relationships and putting them in order. We must understand that any imperialism is bad, both Polish and Russian, both that which is effected in reality and that which is potential, waiting for the right conditions.

Ukrainians, Lithuanians and Belarussians must be granted the complete right of self-determination in the future because that is what is required by the Polish-Russian raison d’etat. It is only this way that the disastrous “either us or them” system can be laid to rest–the system that now offers Russians an alliance with a satellite Poland, but also because of which, if a Russian-Chinese war were to break out tomorrow, the vast majority of Poles would wish for a Chinese victory.

For the reasons above, the so-called nationality issue is not only a fundamental Russian issue but also a Russian-Polish one. Only a radical resolution of this problem has the potential to transform Polish-Russian relations.

It seems that there is a growing percentage of Russians that is aware of this. I wish to strongly reemphasise that the “either us or them” mentality has got to go, not only among Russians but also among Poles. This process is bilateral. Poles who are patiently waiting for the time for retaliation and restoration of the “bulwarks” are strongly kindling Russian imperialism.

In the introduction to this article I mentioned Maxim Litvinov, for whom the historic “either us or them” system was as alive and current in 1944 as it had been over the previous 300 years. Litvinov believed that the work initiated by the Andruszow truce (3.01.1667), when Poland gave up Smolensk, the Chernihiv region, the Sever region, Sever and Kyiv to Moscow, must be finalised.

Exactly thirty years after Edgar Snow’s conversation with Maxim Litvinov, the grandson of Maxim Litvinov contacted “Kultura” in Paris and came closer to our point of view.

Finally, the last point in these deliberations. Poles nowadays are averse to lofty slogans and romantic phraseology of all kinds. I have an irresistible impression, however, that, in their anti-romanticism Poles are throwing the baby out with the bathwater. The politics of an enslaved nation must unite people of different creeds and should therefore be based on a moral ideal that would purify our independence program and endow it with an ethical dimension. All contemporary independence programs are devoid of this moral, supranational dimension.

No one can be roused by the idea of economic growth, or by slogans of “a colour TV in every home and a car in front of every house”. Everyone wants a car but nobody is willing to die for cars or colour televisions. In Vietnam, Cyprus, the Middle East, Northern Ireland, Angola and Mozambique, people die for ideas which, while often erroneous, are fervently believed in.

Among Poles living nowadays, both in Poland and abroad, nothing, literally nothing is believed in with fervour. People devoid of ideas (“fools die!”) are completely helpless against violence and are classic material for the mass production of slaves.

In reading the Gulag Archipelago, one cannot but conclude that those gigantic camps containing millions of people would be unthinkable without collaboration by the inmates. The “fools die” philosophy adhered to by the vast majority of prisoners, in combination with the violence of the Soviet authorities, turns the Gulag archipelago into a flourishing business.

Obviously, the greatest fools are the believers in the motto “fools die”, and the Gulag Archipelago is a monumental testament to this thesis.

A program based on the principle of self-determination and freedom for kindred nations that separate us from Russia, accompanied by an honest renouncement of any and all imperialistic plans–which should include coming to an arrangement with Moscow above the heads and at the expense of those nations– could restore a high moral motivation to Polish independence politics that is nowadays lacking.

What do we have to set against Gulag Archipelago, if we adopt it as a symbol of the system? We don’t have Solzhenitsyns, but we do have Iwaszkiewicz’s; apostles of licensed success. In the emigration we have fierce anti-communism which produces nothing but animalistic hatred towards Russia. This anti-communism lacks a moral dimension as it is melded with national egoism or even narrow-minded nationalism. We are only interested in the Gulag insofar as this pyramid of tormented bodies and souls can give us a glimpse portending the decomposition of Russia, which in turn would allow us to bring back Vilnius, Lviv, and perhaps something more to Poland.

We should return to Mickiewicz. He understood the word “freedom” and its moral dimension better and more truly than we do.

Kultura 1974, no. 9/324

English translation by Piotr Sut