Newsgroups: soc.culture.polish



Poland suspects

Of all the diasporas, the Polish is the biggest and one of the oldest.
The first political exiles left after Poland was carved up by its
neighbours in 1794. Most went to Paris, where, swayed by romantic
French nationalism, they plotted to oust Russia from Polish territory.
A stereotype-the penniless Polish aristocrat, dreaming hopelessly of
return-was born. But it paid off - after Poland won independence again
in 1918, its first leaders were former exiles.  The next great waves
left in 1939 and 1945, after the Soviet and Nazi invasions; more
followed in 1981. But the 20th-century diaspora was more divided.
Typically, intellectuals still went to Paris, army types went to
London and those just in search of a better life went to America. Many
Jews went to Israel, and anyone who could claim a German grandfather
went to West Germany. When it became possible to go back,
politicians-in-waiting jumped on aeroplanes. Many were icily received.
During the 1980s, conspiracy forced Polish dissidents to rely on small
groups of friends. When those dissidents became the new political
class after 1989, most of them distrusted the returning exiles, who
had not shared jail cells, code words, and conspiracy.  Exiles were
thought unpatriotic. Even Zdzislaw Najder, the exile head of Radio
Free Europe's Polish section, was spurned by his Solidarity colleagues
upon his return. He reacted by playing a part in the movement's
disintegration. Some returning businessmen were also cold-shouldered.
That was the legacy of an unusual set of laws, passed in the mid1980s,
which allowed joint ventures in Poland but only if the foreign partner
was of Polish origin. With little competition in an economy full of
shortages, the first Polonia companies (as they were called) often
became rich. They were suspected of collaborating with communists to
make their money; in pre-1989 Poland, it was almost impossible not to.
Rightly or wrongly, many felt the Polonia,businessmen were unscru-
pulous, and distrusted their successors.  Even Barbara Johnson, the
emigre heiress who tried to invest in the Gdansk shipyard, was turned
away by workers who suspected she might cheat them.  Polish xenophobia
also played a part.  Poland's communist leaders were the puppets of
(Soviet) foreigners; ergo, many less educated Poles thought the new
governments were "selling out" to Germans, or, alternatively, bending
to the whims of "Jewish capital" abroad. And there was envy too: many
Poles simply resent people who got out and lived the good life in the
West. odd though it seems, these feelings conflict with another, very
Polish, feeling about the Polish diaspora: respect. In small towns and
villages, the myth of the Pole who goes abroad and "makes it" is
powerful. Nearly everyone has a relative abroad who sent food and
money in the hardest days. The Polish economy was once driven by
fivedollar bills sent in envelopes from Chicago.
	All of these mixed feelings came to a head during the final
round of Poland's first free presidential election in 1990-one of the
more bizarre political episodes of the post-communist era. Lech
Walesa, trade union leader and folk hero, stood against Stanislaw
Tyminski, the Canadian emigre and businessman who had emerged from
nowhere to defeat the standing prime minister in the first round.
Because he had succeeded in capitalist America, some small-town Poles
felt that Mr Tyminski could bring capitalism to Poland.
Others were hysterically suspicious. 
[.....]

In the aftermath of the Tyminski debacle, suspicion of returning
political exiles grew. Radek Sikorski, an exile who returned to become
deputy defence minister last February, was hounded mainly for having a
British passport; even the pope was criticised for political comments.
Only those who refrain from direct political participation, like
Zbigniew Brzezinski or Czeslaw	 Milosz, remain universally popular.
in business, the rule is the same: former exiles working quietly for
joint ventures or banks do well, but anyone who is unusually wealthy
or prominent can quickly become the object of popular dislike.


(THE ECONOMIST DECEMBER 26TH 1992-JANUARY 8TH 1993)