Three Monkeys Online - the free current affairs & arts magazine

Gazeta Wyborcza sent in the foreign legion today in a lack lustre affair which could hardly be described as a decisive victory. They found a handful of obliging foreign students to complain about Poland. One said that the backup facilities in Poland were much worse than in Portugal, “doubtless because Poland values education very lowly and funds it accordingly.” No, of course that wasn’t printed. She said “doubtless because in Portugal public universities are fee-paying – 900 euros a year.” The newspaper also committed a tactical blunder by admitting in an accompanying interview that some third level colleges (for example, the one from which the interviewer, Piotr Pacewicz, graduated 30 years or so ago) are alright, having introduced paid night courses a few years ago. (I need hardly point out that Pacewicz got his degree for free. I would add that he got it free from the communists - except that it is now a crime in Poland to praise communism.)

“Poles can pay less” is the cheering headline in April 4th’s Gazeta Wyborcza. This storyette, tucked away in the boring old business section, is about how a Polish building company operating in Germany has won the right to pay its workers less than the existing, collectively bargained industry rate in Germany. The European Court decided that if collective agreements were actually binding this would conflict with the freedom to provide services in the EU. The company pays its workers 47% of the agreed rate. It would be difficult indeed to find a clearer argument against the Lisbon constitution than this; hard to find more powerful ammunition for those kill-joys who say the purpose of opening up the EU to much more poorly paid workers was to reverse the gains made by workers in the west — so naturally the story is on page 28, while all the front page attention in Poland has been on inter-party haggling, gay marriages, phantom German repatriation claims and so forth.

Bad and all as it is for unionized workers in Western Europe, things will be much worse for Polish academics – or will be if professor Żylicz, chairman of the Polish Science Foundation, gets his way. He is quoted in Polityka (April 5th), saying that in order to attract heavy weight grants to universities, academic jobs will have to be filled by competition. Fair enough so far but the jobs will have to be “contractual in nature, and limited in time.” So no more permanent jobs for lecturers. One objection seems obvious: what price academic freedom if in three years time your GlaxoSmithklineWelcomePriceWaterhouseCoopersMicroBasf grant runs out and you have to go begging for another “grant.” But what amazes is the casual consignment of a whole group of workers to permanent stress and insecurity. You can bet Żylicz would not so calmly, barefacedly suggest that miners or nurses have their careers destroyed and family lives ruined.

Quoted in the same article is professor Andrzej Jaszczyk of the Mining Academy, who repeats the very modish idea that academics should take part in exchanges with other universities. Again, fair enough but he also says academics should be forbidden from working in the same university they did their PhDs in: “Academics should be on the move.” Goodbye job security, goodbye sweet old hometown…

Janusz Głowacki used to smuggle criticism past the censor by dressing it up as extravagant praise, comparing favourably, for instance, the since-forgotten socialist realist book Głupia sprawa (A Silly Matter) by Dobrowolski with the publication of the first Polish translation of Ulysses. He says he got letters from some readers saying: you know, that Głupia sprawa is okay but still I think Ulysses might be a bit better. How would Głowacki fare (he’s still around) in today’s uncensored world? How would he deal with this from Gazeta Wyborcza, the story of the latest in a line of heroic hospital managers held up for us all to admire:
“Strajkujcie sobie, ile chcecie. Nie uległ strajkom, głodówkom, łzom. Połączył trzy szpitale, zwolnił 40 proc. pracowników. Wygrał wojnę z komornikami. W ciągu czterech lat uratował przed bankructwem wałbrzyską służbę zdrowia.”
“Strike as much as you like. He did not give in to strikes, hunger strikes or tears. He joined three hospitals together and sacked 40% of the staff. He won the war with the bailiffs. In four years he saved the Wałbrzych health services from bankruptcy.”
What a guy, eh? He sacked 40% of the staff. What guts! He closed two hospitals. What balls! He did not give in to hunger strikers. What manliness! I don’t know how a Głowacki would deal with this kind of official discourse. Unless he wrote it himself.

Cudowna Melina (Wonderful Drinking Den) by Kazimierz Orłoś is an interesting case of a book that requires a certain knowledge of its times to be fully appreciated. Written in Communist Poland (1971), it is, to say the least, schematic. You can almost guess the pattern: an idealistic young party apparatchik comes to town and cleans it up, rooting out the corrupt and the bourgeois, in an object lesson in socialist morality. Except that in Orłoś’s version of the tale it is the party apparatchiks that are cynical, corrupt and greedy. The new broom is not the local party secretary but the chairman of the town council – and he fails miserably in his attempt to reform the town and break up the cliques. Not only that, but he is generally unpopular, earning the nickname “Chrystusek” (Little Jesus) because he will not take bribes or even a drink.

That this outwardly formulaic book is in fact a parody is signalled on the back cover by later, helpful reviewers but there are hints within as well. One of them is the remarkable fact that there are funny bits in it. Take for instance the description of Sergeant Zenon Olszewski: “He was known for the implacable position he took with regard to the hooligan elements that did not observe order and discipline in our town. He was particularly attentive to the matter of correctly crossing the road.” So incorruptible is Olszewski that when people try to go over his head to Major Popielak the major can only wring his hands and say “There’s nothing I can do… The policeman is within his rights,” which must have brought a bitter smile to Poles of the times.

It also illustrates the usefulness of parody: no need to immerse oneself in the real socialist realist literature when books like this serve as both entertainment and literary handbooks. I also cannot help wonder if Orłoś was also taking a swipe at “dirty realism” too, of the type found in Hłasko and Nowakowski. At one point a hippy turns up in town. This harmless stranger is introduced, described and inevitably beaten up and run out of town in just three and a half short pages.

Although the satire is quite broad – the establishment is totally rotten with almost no redeeming features at all – there are some excellent small touches, as when the party secretary books a table in a café but does not deign to say for how many. The owner, in turn, does not dare to ring back and ask.

Cudowna Melina fell foul of the censor and was published in Paris in 1973. Orłoś was banned from publishing for the rest of the existence of the People’s Republic of Poland with the exception of a short period in 1980-1981.

There was a stick but there was carrot too. Among the ways in which the Communist authorities in Poland tried to keep writers and creative types in line was by introducing in 1978 a tax free allowance of 144,000 zł per annum for them. This at a time when the average monthly wage was 4 to 6 thousand.

Of course, one feels honour bound to mention that our own Charles Haughey exempted Irish creative artists from income tax in 1969.

Gazeta Wyborcza has launched a series called “fifteen themes” of the third (i.e. post 1989) Republic of Poland. Part one deals with censorship. There is a photo of a page from the GW of July 10th 1989 in which two cuts have been forced by the censor. In place of the censored information is [----], followed by the reference to the censorship statute. Ah, the bad old days… I won’t be quoting any more of GW’s meisterstuck on censorship because a notice on the inside cover of the attractive folder it comes in says “żadna część ani całość dzieła nie mogą być reprodukowana bez wcześniejszej zgody wydawcy” or “Neither the entirety nor any part of this work may be reproduced without first obtaining the written permission of the publisher.”

More from the censors’ archives:

“At the start of December the editors [of the local newspaper] enthusiastically took to rehabilitating Santa Claus. At least one front page article devoted to this oh so important question was planned… The editors’ plan to completely rehabilitate Santa Claus was foiled by the censor. Two articles and three plates were withdrawn. It’s an unhappy affair and the fact that the censor was forced to intervene in material which should have been rejected by the editors much earlier gives pause for thought.”

Taking Poland by storm right now and for the next eight — no, make that seven — days is one Krzysztof Kononowicz, who ran for president of Bia?ystok. You can watch his appearance on a teevee show if you search around but it’s a slightly unpleasant experience. The question of manipulation comes up and — well, to comment further would be, well unpleasant. You’ll know what I mean if you watch the dreaded Warsaw meeja interviewing him.

A far more interesting nine day wonder is Hubert H., the homeless man who was busted for insulting Kaczy?ski while some — ahem — patriotic police were checking his ID one day in Warsaw Central. H. disappeared from view, apparently unaware that he was up on such serious charges. He was taken in by the police in Katowice, who, not realising what a big fish they had caught, let him go again. He has been on the — not run, exactly, maybe on the walk — for months but finally he has had his day in court in another coup for the forces of law and order and censorship. There’s a news report here. Even if you don’t speak Polish you can probably get the gist of what Mr. H. said about Kaczy?ski that has so exercised the authorities. Have a look: he’s probably not what you’re expecting.

A few weeks ago I mentioned in passing newspaper reports that the president of Poland was displeased at the continued rule of a lefty in PZU, a state controlled insurance company. The incumbent was duly sacked and his successor was announced by treasury minister Wojciech Jasi?ski. The lucky man, whose appointment is still to be confirmed by some rubber stamping body — sorry, the Insurance and Pension Fund Supervisory Commission, is Jaromir Netzel, who is threatening to sue Rzeczpospolita for their articles in the last few days which point to his — and here presumption of innocence and Three Monkeys’ battalions of lawyers forbid me from continuing. Rzeczpospolita has deeper pockets than the monkeys. As for Netzel, even “prime” minister Marcinkiewicz is looking for explanations.

There’s an interview with Bronis?aw Wildstein, new chairman of the state TV company, in today’s Rzeczpospolita. Jaros?aw Murawski asks this champion of the citizen’s right - nay, obligation - to be well-informed about democratic society’s workings if Wildstein has not sacked certain people because they are protected by Samoobrona (coalition members). Wildstein fearlessly replies: “If you’re claiming that I won’t sack somebody because they are protected by Samoobrona or anyone else I will treat it as something like slander.” Murawski quickly changes the subject.