Częstochowa

Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,

And smale foweles maken melodye,

That slepen al the nyght with open eye-

(So priketh hem Nature in hir corages);

Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages

And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes

To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;

A few weeks ago I participated in my first pilgrimage, to the Jasna Góra monastery in Częstochowa. This is perhaps the most important religious site in Poland, and every year people walk to it from around the country, sort of like Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Others, of course, don't have that much time or religious devotion and take a bus instead, as I did.

The funniest thing that happened to us happened within minutes of our stepping off the bus. We saw a "Bureau of Youth" or some such which featured a giant fiberglass shark biting into the facade. The three of us started taking pictures, and a completely random woman who had to have been at least in her mid-sixties walked up to us. She started telling us about the courtyard of a particular building that was in horrible condition despite the fact that the landlord was getting money to fix it up. She also said there were a number of "ladies of the night" who could be seen there all the time, sometimes with skirts, sometimes with no skirts at all. Would we please take a picture of all this so that it could be written up in whatever newspaper we worked for?

In a Polish context, this actually isn't a weird experience, which tells you something about Poland. If this were, say, a 20-something woman, that would be weird, but older people are expected to be busybodies and generally keep everybody honest. Grannies form a kind of Police Auxiliary, as well as a Politeness Gendarme, and are Overt Agents. I don't think this woman actually lived in that building, but just knew about it and thought it was outrageous. And here were three people taking photos, two of whom spoke decent-enough Polish. It seemed logical enough that we worked for the papers, and we did say the photos would appear "someplace." Of course, that someplace is Facebook, but we didn't want to disappoint. We did check out the address we were given, and the courtyard was actually in excellent condition by Polish standards (and trust me, I've seen quite a few that weren't). We didn't see any shady dealings either. Maybe we had the wrong address.

The monastery is clearly the most important thing in town. Polish cities tend to have three basic layouts. Kraków is arranged around a central square, with the city radiating out from what was once the city hall. Radom and Częstochowa have a church, and the city is focused on a big boulevard that forms a straight line from said church. In Częstochowa that straight line unfortunately goes right through a power plant. The third city layout is Warsaw's, where you have three centers that sort of bleed into each other, because Warsaw is special, just ask the residents.

The centerpiece of the entire monastery complex is the painting of the Black Madonna, to which miracles have been attributed. The biggest miracle of all was the successful defense of the monastery against the Swedes in 1655. There is a side-chapel dedicated entirely to this painting, which is covered at noon and uncovered at 1:30 every day amidst great solemnity. This hour and a half gives the staff time to clean up the chapel, which is a little bit gritty as more or less every single person in Poland has been there at least once. I was there for the covering of the painting, which was done to the blaring of trumpets and booming of tympani. Security ultimately had a hard time ushering everybody out of the chapel. The walls are decorated with all sorts of plaques, memorials, and trinkets left by various visiting groups. The main church is also spectacularly Baroque, though the proportions of the church do feel more Gothic (tall and skinnny).

As I have previously noted, while Poland officially has a separation of Church and State, and while the Church does not have much actual temporal power (to its frustration), Polish national identity is tied up in the Catholic Church. Częstochowa is not just a religious shrine but a patriotic one. Many of those plaques read something along the lines of "Dedicated to the men of the Xth Regiment, who with their faith in God, honor, and country, fought for a Free Poland." "To the patriots murdered by the Nazis, who today sit at the right hand of God."  The Black Madonna is the Queen of Poland. I cannot stress enough, Jasna Góra receives pilgrims who come for religious reasons, but also many who come for patriotic ones.

Two statues have pride of place at the monastery or right in front of it, one of Jerzy Popiełuszko, a priest murdered by the Communist secret police, and Stefan Wyszyński, Primate of Poland from 1948-1981 and a big anti-Communist. I think there was a statue of John Paul II there someplace, and I would be stunned if there weren't. The thing is, all three of these men are national heroes and patriots. 

Aside from the monastery, there doesn't seem to be much going on in Częstochowa. There are some souvenir stands right outside the monastery entrance, some cafes along the main drag, but it seems like most people do their pilgrimage and then blow town. What we saw of the city looked nice enough: it reminded me of Radom but more extensively remodeled. All told, a most interesting experience.

The Warsaw Uprising, 69 years later

The Kotwica, symbol of the Armia Krajowa (Home Army)

On August 1st, 1944 at 17:00, the German occupiers of Warsaw received a nasty surprise in the form of the largest uprising in Occupied Europe. And today, at 17:00, air-raid sirens wailed for a full minute as some held aloft red flares, commemorating that event.

As the Red Army advanced and it became increasingly clear that the Germans were about to lose the war, the Polish Government in Exile in London found itself at a crossroads. If the Red Army were to take all of Poland, there was no reason to think that they would agree to an independent, democratic Poland after the war was over. If, however, the Armia Krajowa (Home Army, henceforth AK), the Polish resistance army, were to take and control major cities such as Warsaw before the Red Army arrived, the Government in Exile might just have a chance to influence post-war Poland. In July 1944, the London government ordered General Tadeusz Bór-Komorowski to launch the uprising at his discretion.

This is not as far-fetched an idea as it seems: Yugoslavia, for example, was essentially independent from Moscow during the Cold War, to the point where Stalin tried to assassinate Marshal Tito a couple of times. This was only made possible by the fact that Tito's partisans were largely responsible for clearing Yugoslavia of Nazis and Nazi collaborators, with the Red Army providing some support. The Soviets more or less promised similar support, broadcasting on Moscow radio that the time to rise was now. 

The initial stages of the Uprising were very successful. In the first four days the Germans were largely expelled from the city, and the insurgents waited for relief from the approaching Red Army and support from the Western Allies.

But no support came.

The problem was that the AK, unlike Tito, was not in the least interested in Communism. Stalin already had a Polish puppet government set up and ready to go, and feared that if the uprising were to succeed, not only would that hand a political coup to the Western-oriented London government, it would leave behind an organized, victorious fighting force opposed to Soviet domination. So, Stalin cynically let the Germans finish off the AK for him.

The Red Army had been engaged in heavy fighting to the east of Warsaw in July, but by August the advance stalled. I don't want to wade into why as that's disputed, but many Poles will tell you that Stalin more or less ordered the advance to stall. By mid-September the 1st Polish Army (of the Red Army) took Praga on the east bank of the Vistula. By this time the situation in Warsaw was growing desperate as German reinforcements slowly re-took the city in house-to-house fighting. The AK used the sewer system to connect the disparate pockets of resistance, but those pockets gradually shrank. The Red Army did launch a couple of assaults to try to cross the river, but they were wholly inadequate. Stalin also did not allow British or American cargo planes to land at Soviet airfields, which prevented supply drops to the embattled insurgents. The RAF did try regardless, but it simply wasn't enough.

By October the uprising had largely been put down. The Germans fortified the city and did not withdraw until January 1945. As they withdrew, Hitler ordered the complete destruction of the city. By the end of the war, Warsaw looked like this:

The Old City of Warsaw

General Eisenhower in the main square of Warsaw's Old City

80% of the city was destroyed, between the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, the Warsaw Uprising, and the vindictive German destruction of the entire city as they withdrew. The Uprising killed around 16,000-20,000 Home Army soldiers and around 100,000 civilians out of Warsaw's pre-war population of 1.3 million.

Ultimately, the Uprising was a catastrophe for Poland. The London government was more or less shunted out of any kind of influence in deciding the future of Poland. The Communist (PRL) government first hunted the surviving members of the AK as counter-revolutionary elements, then tried their level best to stamp the AK out of history. Imagine that instead of your granddad getting a medal and the praise of windbag politicians for storming Omaha Beach, he had to flee the country like Edward Snowden, and be regarded as such by the folks at home. That's what my grandfather had to do. He was an officer in the Polish army and a member of the AK though I don't know if he took part in the Warsaw Uprising or not. At the end of the war he ended up in a Displaced Persons camp in Germany. It was not safe for him to return home as the Soviet authorities were busy arresting people with that kind of background. He met my grandmother in that camp, and they moved to Chicago in 1950. My dad was born 4 months later. This is by no means a unique story, or even an unusual one. A portion of my youth was spent listening to similar stories, which is why the Polish Diaspora contains some of the most rabid anti-Communists you'll ever find.

The Polish dislike and distrust of the Germans and the Russians baffle some Americans, including some who should really know better. All I have to say on that score is, look at that picture of Warsaw, and imagine that's New York. We hate the movie aliens who do that to our cities on the silver screen, and they're not even real. Or heck, if you're from the South, tell me how you feel about General Sherman. 

The Uprising changed the face of Warsaw. That entire city is at most 70 years old, including the "Old" City, which had to be completely rebuilt. Skyscrapers are a relative rarity in Poland, but Warsaw's city center is full of them. Warsaw has always felt a little bit like Chicago to me: the streets are broader, the buildings are in a more modern style and if you go to certain parts of Milwaukee Avenue, the people walking around look exactly the same.

Another legacy of the uprising and what came after is this sudden rush to talk all about it. In the last 20 years, those counterrevolutionary elements of the AK suddenly became great Polish heroes. Like all great Polish heroes, they fought for the freedom of Poland against overwhelming odds, held on longer than they had any hope of doing, and ultimately failed at great cost. This transition happened just as the survivors of the uprising got old and started dying off.  It was bittersweet to see some of the veterans of the AK at St. Mary's Church today: as boys, girls, men and women they engaged in street fighting that no less a figure than Heinrich Himmler compared to Stalingrad. They lost friends to that fighting, 69 years ago. I fervently hope that the likes of it are never seen in Poland again.